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uss-butterscotch · 1 month ago

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Welcome to Part Five! We’re still in the Max interlude, so enjoy :3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Eddie was counting his brief encounter with Max as a win. He figured, based on the argument he had overheard, and her seemingly general disinterest in almost everything, that she would be willing to give up Harrington’s secrets simply because she didn’t care enough to keep them. All he had to do now was formulate a plan to get her to trust him enough to actually talk to him.

The opportunity presented itself on a particularly brisk morning in mid-October. He made it out of the house in time to not be late to first period for once, and he noticed Max leaving out her front door at the same time, skateboard tucked under her arm. She started walking down the gravel driveway out of the trailer park.

“A little late to start walking to school, isn’t it?” He called after her.

She stopped, turning back to him.

“A little early to be harassing underage girls, isn’t it?” she shot back.

Eddie put his hands up in surrender. “Look, all I’m saying is, we’re going to the same place. If you want a ride, my passenger seat’s wide open,” he peeked into the window, “well, it will be as soon as I throw this bag of trash in the back.”

She glared at him for a concerning amount of time, then rolled her eyes and started walking toward the van. Eddie grinned and hopped into the front seat, throwing as much of the random stuff that was currently occupying the shotgun seat into the back.

When he started up the car, the tape he had left in the stereo began blasting through the speakers. Max, upon entering the van, immediately reached over and ejected it.

“Hey!” He said instinctively, “my car, my music.”

He reached to push the tape back in, but Max snatched it before he could. She opened the glove box and threw it in. “My step-brother used to listen to shit like that.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and put the van in reverse, pulling out of the trailer park. “He doesn’t anymore?”

“He’s dead.”

Despite the constant rattling and slight screeching that accompanied the van while it was in motion, the silence that followed was downright suffocating. Eddie remembered his conversation a few weeks ago with the freshmen of Hellfire. He felt like simultaneously the world’s biggest idiot and asshole.

“Oh shit,” he said quietly, “Billy Hargrove, right?”

Max just glared out the window, arms crossed.

Now don’t get him wrong, Eddie wasn’t glad the guy was dead, but he was glad he didn’t have to run into him ever again. He found it hard to imagine anyone having any sort of positive relationship with Billy Hargrove, but he thought it best to offer his condolences anyway.

“I’m sorry… did you uh, were you guys close?”

“I hated him.” She stated with almost a forced coldness. Like it was something she’d said over and over again.

“Oh.” Was all Eddie could come up with. Truthfully, Eddie could relate to the situation. Al Munson was a real shit show of a human and an even worse father, but now that he was gone, there were a lot of complicated and ugly feelings associated with the memory of him.

Of course, Eddie had had a few years and late night chats with Wayne to carefully tuck all of those feelings away somewhere he wouldn’t burn his mind-hand on them every day when he went to cook up thoughts. Okay that was a weird analogy, sue him, his brain was weird. Anyway, as he was figuring out a way to bring up the similarities of their situations, Max spoke up again.

“I wanted him gone for so long, I should be glad he finally is.” She bit her cheek, “I mean- I’m not glad he’s dead, but I am sort of glad it was him and not anyone else, you know? And I guess I feel bad about that.”

He saw her look sharply at him out of the corner of his eye as he watched the road. “I don’t know why I’m telling you any of this.”

Eddie shrugged. “Maybe because I wasn’t there. I don’t know what happened, so I can’t really give my opinion on it?”

Max nodded slowly. “Or,” he continued, “maybe you could psychically tell I’ve been there. Sort of.”

She raised a skeptical eyebrow at him but kept quiet.

As the school came into view, he said. “Come on, you must know most people don’t end up in Forest Hills trailer park because things went spectacularly right in their life?”

She seemed to accept this line of thought, her expression less accusatory and more contemplative. He pulled into the parking lot. “I have a proposal for you-“

“Why the hell would I marry you?” She cut him off.

“There are other kinds of proposals, Red.” She rolled her eyes, but let him continue. “If you ever wanna have a ‘whose life sucks the worst’ competition with someone who might actually beat you, you know where to find me.”

As he shut the car off, she narrowed her eyes at him, not unlike Robin had the other day, trying to see if he had some other angle. And sure, he had come into the morning with one, but now that he had actually had a conversation with the kid, his main priority was to induct her into the society of lost sheep. Any clues he got from her for his side quest, would just be whipped cream.

After that, as the days got colder, they came to an unspoken agreement. On days that Max’s mom was too “busy” to drive her to school, she’d be waiting, leaning against Eddie’s van, Walkman blasting, until she could hitch a ride with him. Occasionally, if he had turned his alarm off and resigned himself to missing first period, she would bang on his window until he came out, irritated as hell, and got them both to school in record time.

He never tried to play any of his metal tapes again with Max in the car, but once he did steal one of Wayne’s Patsy Cline cassettes and loaded it in the day before. When ‘Walkin’ After Midnight’ started up, Max jumped slightly in surprise that there was music playing at all. Then, when she realized what it was, gave Eddie an equally exasperated and irritated look.

“Do you really think this is what I listen to?” She asked.

“No, but was I right in assuming you have no negative memories associated with dear sweet Patsy?”

She continued glaring at him. Then sighed and shook her head and looked out the window for the rest of the ride. Resolutely ignoring Eddie’s ridiculous singing along.

Most days they didn’t talk about anything. Occasionally they would complain/gossip about their obnoxious neighbors.

On November first she seemed more sullen than usual.

“Who pissed in your corn flakes?” Eddie asked when she didn’t even take her headphones off like she usually did.

When she turned to scowl at him, he noticed the deep purple bags under her eyes.

“Didn’t sleep last night,” she grumbled and turned away from him, closing her eyes. He narrowed his own at her for a second before going to start the van.

Right before he did, the little dog in the yard across the way crashed into the fence and started barking loudly at nothing, as it was usually doing. What was unusual was the way it made Max jump, eyes flying open and sucking in a harsh gasp. She looked around frantically, her breaths quick with panic.

“Woah there, Red, it’s just Mrs. Dalton’s dog getting excited over a squirrel or something,” he said, hoping his casual tone would soothe whatever she thought was happening.

She looked sharply at him, then cleared her throat. She shifted in her seat for a second, then settled back again. “You have your like, game thing tonight, right? With Dustin, and Mike, and Lucas?”

Eddie grinned. “Absolutely. Every Friday night,” he finally started the car, “you thinking of joining?”

She made a face of disgust, “Hell no. Just,” she pressed her lips together like she was thinking, “do you- you’re not planning on using demogorgons or anything, are you?”

Halfway through reversing out of his parking spot, he gaped at her in shock. “You know what a demogorgon is? I thought you didn’t play?”

“I don’t.” She snapped, “But I am friends with those nerds and they don’t shut up about it.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes at her and pulled out of the trailer park. “Why shouldn’t I use deomogorgons?”

Max’s eyes darted around in a way that was becoming all too familiar to Eddie, she was figuring out a way to say something without revealing details of a secret, and if he had to guess, it was the same secret that the others were protecting when they did it.

“It’s just that, well, do you remember when Will Byers went missing?” She eventually said.

Eddie nodded, and then apparently died and came back to life he thought. “Yeah, what does that have to do with my D&D game?”

“The night that he disappeared, they were playing D&D together, the guys and Will, and they were fighting a demogorgon,” she explained stiltedly, “and it was around this time of year, it just- it might bring up bad memories…” She trailed off and watched the trees fly past the window as they drove.

Eddie nodded and hummed in consideration. “Does it bring up bad memories for you?”

She turned back to him, eyebrows furrowed. “No. I moved here last year, I didn’t even know Will then.”

“Ah, so you look like death warmed over this morning for completely unrelated reasons.” He said sarcastically.

“Yes, actually.” She said, failing to elaborate.

Eddie raised his eyebrows, indicating she should go on.

She continued glaring at him, he figured she hoped he would back down eventually. Unlucky for her, he was the stubborn type. He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

Max rolled her eyes. “Fine, if it’ll get you to stop making that face, I’ll tell you.” She sighed, “Today is the anniversary of the night my dead stepbrother attacked Lucas and almost beat Steve Harrington to death in front of us.”

Eddie should really learn his lesson about prying for more information than he was prepared for from Max. They sat in Eddie’s stunned silence for a moment before he cleared his throat.

“Right, yeah, Wheeler mentioned that, but he was pretty sparse on the details,” he decided to take the opportunity to learn more about one of the events he believed to be central to the mystery, “what exactly happened that night? Why were you guys hanging out with Harrington?”

She scoffed, sounding offended. “Did it maybe occur to you that I don’t want to talk about that?”

Eddie almost wanted to push further, but he remembered how successful that had been for Harrington. He glanced over to her to find her daring him to continue with her eyes.

Eventually, he clicked his teeth and shook his head. “Look, Red, I’m not gonna try to make you talk about anything you don’t want to. I’ll keep driving you to school in complete silence if that’s what you desire,” stopped at a stoplight, he turned to give her a meaningful look, “but, loathe as I am to admit it, I agree with Harrington’s sentiment the other night, whatever you’re going through, you don’t have to do it alone. You shouldn’t, that road never leads anywhere good.”

Her pinched expression didn’t falter. “And I’m supposed to take advice from the guy who failed senior year twice and sells weed to the losers of this town?”

Eddie shrugged, “All I’m hearing from that is that I have, at least a little more life experience than you, which I might have used to figure out some things about dealing with shit like this.”

“Shit like what?” She spat.

“Shit you don’t think you can talk about.” he said casually, purposefully in contrast to her building temper, “Shit that hurts to think about, even when it’s the only thing you can think about.”

They were quiet for a long moment before she eventually spoke up. Her gaze had moved from Eddie to the town of Hawkins speeding by out the window.

“I keep having nightmares.”

Part 6

#surprise! the Max interlude will continue #she kind of ran away with the plot and i like her too much to say no #so you get Eddie Max bonding hours for a minute #eddie munson #steve harrington #even though he’s missing again #max mayfield #stranger things

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gyupinkys · 2 years ago

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LIKE CRAZY

PARK SEONGHWA X READER

WC: 7.4K

WARNINGS: MURDER, YANDERE, VIOLENCE, DOMESTIC ABUSE, GORE, KIDNAPPING, DRUGGING, SMUT, power imbalance, questionable morals, unprotected sex, rough sex, heavy talks of breeding, creampie, oral, guided masturbation, possessiveness, very inaccurate medical terms idk what i'm talking about, lots of dirty talk, seonghwa is actually crazy...

Synopsis: Park Seonghwa, 25, charged with 10 Counts of second degree murder, acquitted of all charges by reason of insanity. You find his story hard to believe, seeing through his lies. As a new psychiatrist you're not sure you're ready for the anomaly you're tasked to treat

A/N: Thank you guys so much for all the support!!! I love this fic <3

You love your job, you really do but moments like this make you question why you’re here. As you stand in the bathroom of your office cleaning the mashed potatoes your patient threw at you in a manic rage off your face, you question why you do this. As a psychiatrist you pride yourself in your patience, but you can't help but stomp your foot in a mini tantrum. You spent so long doing your makeup this morning and it’s all going to waste. You throw the final wipe in the trash and stare at your reflection. The bags under your eyes are much more prominent than a few days ago. You’ve been up all night trying to prepare yourself for your new patient coming today. Park Seonghwa, 25, acquitted of all charges by reason of insanity. He claims a “demon” took over his body, subsequently leading him to murdering 15 people across a 1 month killing spree. You don’t buy it. Something about this guy is off and the state made it your job to find out why. Your phone ringing snaps you out of your thoughts.

“Doctor L/N, the patient has arrived, we are transporting him to his room.”

“I’ll be right there.”

You take a deep breath and walk across the hospital to his room. You expect to hear shuffling and yelling but the room is eerily quiet. The guards in front of the door step aside and let you into the room, keeping a close eye on Seonghwa.

“Hello Mr.Park, I’m Dr. Y/N L/N, and I will be treating you for your stay here.” you smile at him., surprised by his appearance.

“Hello, Y/N.” he says, staring up at you from his place on his bed.

His curly black hair and plump lips suit him so well.

“I hope you adjust well, we’ve been anticipating your arrival. Breakfast begins at 8, so you are expected to be up and ready before then. Lunch is at 2 and dinner is at 7. Your therapy time with me is at 4 Mondays, Wednesday’s, and Fridays. Sounds good?”

“Sounds great” he says with a smile, showcasing his pearly white teeth.

“I look forward to working with you. My job is to take care of you and I promise to do that.” you smile.

You take a second to look at him, watching the dead look in his eyes. His smile says one thing but his eyes say another. With one last smile you leave the room, almost certain he’ll be causing problems before the night is over.

_________________________

You come in the next morning and check in with the nurses. Surprisingly there were no issues from Seonghwa, he even took his medication with no complaints. Maybe you had the wrong idea about him. You meet with several of your other patients, thankfully avoiding potatoes in your face again. It's 3pm when you take a break, looking outside your office window. You see him sitting at the edge of the courtyard, eyes fixed up at the sky. Four guards surround him out of precaution, but he seems completely unphased, eyes staring at the clear blue sky. For someone capable of such evil things he’s beautiful. His curly hair has grown quite long during his time in prison awaiting his trial. His eyes are wide and bright holding so many secrets. As if he can feel your eyes on him he looks up, directly into your office window somehow making eye contact with you. Your eyes widen and you quickly look away, pretending you weren't staring at him. It’s not uncommon for new patients to stick to themselves, often untrusting of the new environment. You can only hope Seonghwa will begin to trust you so you can treat him, if not you’re not sure what his future might hold.

_________________________

He is brought to your office at 4 on the dot, accompanied by the four guards assigned to him. He looks rather scared, the new environment keeping him on his toes. You welcome him with a wide smile that he doesn't return, instead staring straight at your shoes.

“Hello, Seonghwa.”

“Hi.” he responds quietly, reminding you of a scared child. You find it in your heart to feel sorry for him.

“How are you adjusting?”

He shrugs in response, eyes still on the floor.

“Can you look at me?”

He shakes his head no.

“Ok, that's fine. I know it’s scary here, I’d also hate to be constantly monitored, but we just want to make sure you’re safe.”

He keeps quiet so you continue.

“Tell me, do you like the food here?”

No response.

“I’ve only tried some of the patient food, well besides when it gets thrown at me. Last week Sandy with the weird haircut threw her potatoes right in my face, I looked like Ms.Doubtfire in that one scene.” you say with a laugh, gauging his reaction. He smirks but remains silent, you decide it might be best if you keep talking in hopes of making him comfortable.

“I’ve only been working here for about 5 months. I can’t say I’m settled completely. Some patients don’t seem to like me very much, hence the mashed potatoes. But I don’t let that discourage me, I mean if I was in their shoes I wouldn’t want some random lady talking my ear off. Well, I guess that’s what I’m doing now, I’ll shut up.”

He looks up at you with a wide smile, showcasing his perfect teeth. “Don’t stop," he says gently.

“I don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into here, I can talk for hours.” you say with a light laugh.

His eyes widen a bit, he looks at you as if he’s psychoanalyzing you, the roles seemingly reversed. You squirm under his intense stare, deciding to just start talking.

“How about this? If I tell you one thing about me, you tell me one thing about you?”

“Deal.” he says much quicker than you anticipate making you laugh. You hear his breath hitch, concerned you did something wrong.

“Are you ok?”

“I’m fine. Start talking.”

“Ok, Ok. Hmmmm, Oh how about this, I haven’t finished paying off my student debt.”

“I could pay it off,” he says seriously.

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m sure that violates many rules.”

“I’m not one to worry about rules.” he says with a smile, making your own fall. He quickly reacts, trying to soothe the situation. “That was a joke, I’m joking.”

“Noted.” you say hesitantly. “Your turn.”

“I miss my cat.” he says, sadly.

“You have a cat?” you ask in surprise. “I love cats, I have two.”

“Can I see?” he asks, scooching to the front of his seat, making the guards jump hold him back.

“You guys can relax.” you say and they let go of him.

You grab your phone from your desk, missing the way his eyes drop to your ass.

“They're named Brad and Chad. And yes I know those are weird names for cats.” you show him the pictures of your cats, seeing his body visibly relax.

“What’s your cat's name?”

“Matz.”

“Boy or girl?”

“Girl. I think my friend Hongjoong has her but I’m not sure.”

“If you give me his last name I can try to find out for you.” you say with a smile.

He leans forward again in excitement. “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course, I know It’ll give you peace of mind.”

“Kim, his last name is Kim.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Kim Hongjoong has Matz and says you raised a very disrespectful cat.” you say and slide into the chair across from him in the cafeteria.

He looks a bit shocked at your presence but he gives you a wide smile when he registers what you said.

“She was born like that, I had no part in her sassiness.” he laughs.

“Did he say anything else?”

“He said, “Don't forget to look at the sky.” and stopped responding after that so do with it as you will.”

“I really appreciate it.” he says and grabs your hand, making the security guards restrain him.

“It’s ok, let him go.” you sigh, understanding the guard’s worry, but also feeling sympathetic for Seonghwa.

“I’ll see you around, Seonghwa.”

“Call me Hwa.” he smiles.

_________________________

Seonghwa has made great progress, now only being followed around by two guards as opposed to four. He’s been much more responsive with you and willing to let you into his mind, but he refuses to talk about the murders. Whenever you attempt to touch on the subject he locks up and asks to leave. You think he needs more time to accept and confront his past. You know prying too much will only erase his progress. You’ve learned so much about him and he’s learned so much about you. He’s so attentive to every word you speak, constantly bringing up small details you forgot you said. You’d be lying if you said it wasn't sweet. Today you decided to try group therapy with him, maybe if he sees someone else sharing he’d be inclined to share as well. You’re also hoping he’s able to make a friend here, since he expressed to you how lonely he’s been feeling. You can see the shock on his face when he walks into your office and see’s San sitting on the couch. He freezes in the threshold of your office, his face morphing into something you’ve never seen before.

“Who is this?” he asks with venom.

“Hwa, this is San, he’ll be joining us today.”

“Why?”

“I think it’ll be a good change of pace. Now come on in and sit down.”

He slowly walks in, eyes never leaving San.

“So, I was thinking of doing a joint session today. I think you two can be great friends and what better place to facilitate this friendship than here?”

“I’d rather be your friend, or more than friends if you’re interested.” San says with a smirk.

“San, don’t start.”

“If you show me your tits I’ll stop.”

“I will write you up.” you deadpan.

He holds his hands up in defeat as you look over to Seonghwa. He’s sitting in his chair with a hard face and tense body. You want him to feel comfortable, understanding why he’s nervous.

“Hwa, San also loves cats. Why don’t you tell him about Matz?”

“I have a cat named Matz” he whispers, eyes never leaving you.

“I used to have a cat but it died. I was thinking of getting a new one.” San says with a wide smile.

“What kind of cat is your favorite?” Seonghwa asks, seemingly interested.

“I like cats that are nice and wet, even better if they're tight.” he says with a wide smile, showing off his dimples. “Can I take a look at your cat, Doctor?”

Before you can respond San’s on the floor, face being beaten in by Seonghwa.

“HOW ABOUT YOU TREAT HER WITH SOME FUCKING RESPECT.” he yells as his fist fly into San’s jaw. As the guards peel him off San and sedate him he’s staring straight at you, tears in his eyes.

“I can’t sit here and let him talk to you like that.” he slurs as the sedative takes over his body.

“Thank you, Hwa.” is the last thing he hears before everything fades to black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You did a real number on San.” you say with an awkward laugh at your next session, trying to make him comfortable. He’s back with four guards after he broke San’s jaw two weeks ago. He was placed in a higher security ward inorder to avoid more altercations.

“He deserved it.” he whispers with an eye roll.

“Maybe, but we don’t have to solve our problems with violence.”

“I do.”

“Well, If I upset you would you beat the shit out of me?” you ask, trying to prove your point but hoping he will say no.

He leans forward and looks directly into your eyes. “Y/N I will never hurt you. I swear on my life.”

“That's good to hear” you say with a laugh.

“Ok, let's begin. I want you to write three things you like here and three things you dislike. I want you to start seeing the good in the bad.”

“Not much to love in this shit hole.” he grumbles.

“Hey, At least the chicken tenders they serve on wednesdays are good.” you joke.

You hand him a piece of paper and a pen, your fingers brushing making you clear your throat.

“Ok, go ahead.”

“You do it too.” he says with a smirk.

“How about I just write things I do like? ”

“Deal”

You write three things you like:

Chicken tenders

The sunlight

Seonghwa

“Ok, you share first.”

He clears his throat.

“I like my doctor, I like the girl I meet on Monday’s, Wednesday, and Fridays, and I like Y/N.”

Your eyes widen and you can’t help but smile, feeling your cheeks tingle. “Well that's definitely something.” you say with a laugh watching his eyes light up.

You read out your list and watch his smile widen when he hears his name.

“Don’t let it go to your head.” you say with an eye roll.

“Oh baby, it already did.”

Your heart stops at the pet name, willing yourself to remain professional. He’s a goddamn serial killer you internally yell.

“Ok, now read the things you don’t like.”

“I don’t like Tuesdays and Thursdays, I don’t like San, and I don’t like your boyfriend.”

You choke on the sip of water you were taking.

“How do you know I have a boyfriend?”

“Your reaction just told me.” he says and you can see him becoming upset.

“I don’t have a boyfriend, and frankly it’s none of your business.” you say, slightly annoyed.

He gives you a look you’re never seen before. You hate to think it but he genuinely looks insane. You’re suddenly thankful for the guards in the room.

“I think that’s enough for today.” you say. the guards picking him up and dragging him out of the room, his eyes never leaving yours.

You weren’t lying, you don’t have a boyfriend. Well, that’s because he doesn’t want you. All Chris wants from you is sex, claiming he’s “too young for a relationship”

You wish you were strong enough to stick up for yourself but that’s exactly how he likes you, weak.

As you sit at your desk you're puzzled by Seonghwa’s reaction. Sure, you've had patients crush on you in the past but they've never reacted like that when they found out about your partner. He looked almost… murderous? You write this in his file, concerned for both your safety and his. Maybe someone else should get assigned to him? No, that’ll only aggravate him more. You sigh, at a loss about this situation.

_________________________

When you enter your office you see an envelope on the floor, presumably slid under your door. You pick it up and see it’s addressed to you.

You open it and pull out a letter.

“My dear Y/N,

I don’t know what I was thinking yesterday. I guess I got jealous, knowing I can’t have you in the ways he has you. I can tell you guys aren’t in love. You deserve to be loved, in every sense of the word. I wish we met in different circumstances, I’d do anything to have you, to hold you, to love you. I’m sorry if I scared you. You’ve been nothing but perfect for me and I’ve done nothing but give you headaches. I’ll be better for you, I promise.

-Hwa”

Your heart softens. This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for you. You choose to ignore the parts where he confesses his love for you. That just complicates things. You decide to pay him a visit in his room.

You walk to the other side of the hospital, rehearsing what you're going to say to him. You stop in your tracks outside his door, hearing moans and groans coming from the other side. Is he ok? You press your ear to his door, only hearing more moans and whimpers. As you’re about to open it you hear him moan out your name. Oh. It doesn't take a genius to guess what he’s doing. It would be a lie if you said you weren't imagining his face right now. He’s already so pretty, he must look even better right before he comes. You bite the bullet and knock on his door.

“Hwa, can I come in?”

You hear shuffling and a meek “Come in.”

You open the door and pause. You expected him to stop but he’s sitting up on his bed with his back against the wall, cock in his hand. Your eyes stray from his face to his dick, hard and long.

“Am I interrupting something?”

“No.”

“I’ll come back later.”

“No.” he yells, making you stop in your tracks.

“Turn around.”

As if you were in a trance you turn around, eyes trained on his large hands wrapped around himself.

“Can you come help me? It hurts so bad.” he whispers. “You’re my doctor aren’t you?” he smirks.

“No, this is wrong.”

“Then why are you still here? Why are your eyes on my cock rather than my face?”

“I-”

“Y/N, all I can think of when I close my eyes is you.” he says as he strokes his cock, looking into your eyes. “Your pretty eyes, your lips, your perfect fucking smile. You make it so hard to focus. I gotta come back here after every session to stroke my cock to you, I can’t help myself.”

You’re frozen in place, unsure if you’re even breathing. “Come wrap your hand around my cock, baby. Please?”

Your legs move before you can think this through, hesitantly wrapping your hand around him. He’s so big in your hands, you can only imagine how perfect he’d feel inside you.

“I shouldn't be doing this.” you whisper to him.

He wraps his hand around yours and guides you to begin stroking him, moaning at the sensation. “You aren’t doing anything wrong, just helping your patient.”

His breathing picks up as precum leaks from his tip onto your hand. “Baby, can I tell y-you something?”

“Yea.”

“I really wish it was your pretty little pussy wrapped around me right now.” he groans. “I’d treat you better than you could imagine, I’d have you addicted to this dick.”

“Hwa”

“Shh, keep going. You're making me feel so good, beautiful.” he breathes out, throbbing in your hand.

“Do you do this to your other patients? Or am I special.”

“You’re special, Hwa. You know that.”

“Do you do this for that ungrateful bastard you call a boyfriend?”

You freeze, but he continues.

“I know you don’t. If he treated you how you deserved you wouldn’t be here with me. I’d make you a queen Y/N, you don’t even have to love me back.”

You look at him in the eye, he looks fucking insane but you can’t find it in you to care. You crash your lips into his, feeling him suck in a deep breath before returning the same ferocity. The kiss is deep and nasty, nothing but tongue and teeth. You grip him harder and begin pumping him faster, desperate to see his face when you come.

“I want you to come for me ok? I wanna see how pretty you look when you feel good.”

“Yes, yes, ok. I’m gonna come for you.”

You hear him let out one last whimper before he comes, his seed dripping down your hand. When he’s done you bring your hand up to his mouth, watching him lick his cum off your fingers. You feel yourself clench around nothing, but you know you’d have to handle your little issue at a later time.

“So good for me, Hwa.” you smile, giving him one last peck before getting up.

He’s laying on the bed, looking completely blissed out, a wide smile on his face.

“I got the letter by the way. I guess flattery has gotten you pretty far.”

_________________________

You arrive home later than expected, getting caught up in some paperwork and losing track of time. When you arrive at your apartment you see none other than Chris waiting outside.

“Where have you been?” he immediately spits, slurring his words, making you roll your eyes.

“Why are you here?” you sigh, unlocking your door.

“What? I can’t come see you now?” he says, going to hug you, but you push him away, smelling the alcohol on his breath.

“Thought you’d be more interested in seeing Irene.”

“Y/N, don’t be like that. You and I aren’t together.” he says, getting aggravated.

“Thank God.” you say under your breath, unsure where this confidence came from.

“Come again?”

“Nothing.”

“No. Fucking say it.” he says, getting in your face.

“Chris, just leave.”

“Youre fucking impossible, Y/N. I don’t know what you fucking want from me. You get mad when I fuck other bitches but you talk to me like this? You don’t deserve me.”

You can’t help but laugh, turning to walk into your bathroom, which makes him even more upset.

“Whats so fucking funny?” he yells, grabbing your wrist a little too tight.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” you spit, trying to pull your hand away, but unable to due to his tight grip.

“You’re hurting me.” you cry as he tightens his grip and pulls you towards him.

“Imagine how much you hurt me when you act like this? You’re a fucking bitch Y/N. Why are you acting like this? Are you fucking someone else is that it?” he’s getting angrier by the second, beginning to scare you.

“GET OFF OF ME.”

“ADMIT IT. YOU'RE WHORING YOURSELF OUT AREN’T YOU? “

You yank your hand from his grip, only to be greeted with a sharp slap across your face.

You look at him with wide eyes, shocked at his actions. He seems equally as shocked as he stares at his hand then you.

“Sweetheart, I’m-”

“Get out before I call the cops.”

He rushes out, spewing bullshit apologies in his drunken state, but you’re having none of it. As soon as he leaves you begin to cry, the reality of what happened hitting you. You look down at your wrist, seeing his hand imprinted on your skin. You cry more, wondering how you got to this point.

_________________________

You tried your best to cover the small mark on your face, but the bruise on your hand was a no go. You just hoped the sleeves of your lab coat would cover the mark. You see multiple patients today, trying to keep up your usual happy persona but most likely failing. San is the only one who asked if you were ok, saying he “knows ways to make

You feel better.” Maybe Seonghwa needs to beat him up one more time so he can learn his lesson. Speaking og Seonghwa, you are nervous to face him after your encounter yesterday. You violated so many rules, if he were to snitch on you not only would you lose your job, but your license. You take a deep breath as the guards bring him into your office, two instead of four now due to good behavior.

He takes a seat but you’re not sure what to say. He frowns at the unusual silence, immediately asking what's wrong.

“I’m fine, Hwa. Just having a shitty day.” you say while subconsciously rubbing your wrist, bringing attention to it. He shoots forward in his seat and grabs your arm, pulling back your sleeve and looking at your wrist. The guards immediately grab him, but you signal at them to stand down.

“Did he do that?” Seonghwa asked, venom dripping from his voice.

“He was drunk.”

“That's not an excuse.”

“I know.” you sigh.

“That bastard doesn't deserve you. I hope he fucking dies.” Seonghwa spits.

“Hwa, don’t say that.”

“I want to leave.”

You nod your head and the guards lead him back to his room. You decide to head home, hoping a night out with your friends will clear your mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seonghwa’s tells himself he’s doing this for you. Everything he does is for you. No one can lay a hand on his sweet girl and think they won't experience any consequences. He’ll be damned if this fucker lives another day. He watches Chris dance and kiss other women like nothings wrong, like he didn’t put his hands on you. Seonghwa can feel the rage flowing through his body, this is the feeling he gets right before he kills. He can’t wait to see the light leave Chris’ eyes tonight. He’s eternally grateful for Hongjoong finding this fucker for him, he knows he’ll avenge you tonight.

He waits for him near his car, watching him fumble with his keys.

“Excuse me.”

Chris turns around and sees Seonghwa standing next to the car parked behind his own.

“Yes?”

“I know this sounds weird, but I’m trying to dump my couch, but I can’t get it out of my apartment by myself. Can you help me?”

“Yea sure.”

Seonghwa couldn't help but smile, knowing what was about to happen. As soon as the pair enter Hongjoong’s old apartment, Seonghwa wastes no time and stabs Chris in the chest, watching him crumble to the floor.

“You think you can touch my dear, Y/N and get away with it? No one is going to hurt my girl.” he spits, rage consuming him.

Chris doesn’t get a chance to respond as Seonghwa plunges the knife into his chest, repeatedly, aiming for his heart.

“This is how my heart felt when I saw those bruises on her.” he spits, mutilating Chris’s body.

When his body is nothing more than a pile of flesh and blood, Seonghwa stands, changing out of his soiled clothes and exiting the apartment, leaving Chris’s body to rot.

He pushes through the crowds of the rowdy club, searching for you. He spots you dancing with your friends, looking carefree and happy, exactly as you should be. He smiles at the sight, falling more in love with you as the seconds pass. He wants to experience everything with you, he wants to marry you, have kids with you, die with you, and he will. He’ll make you his, he’ll fill you up with his seed and watch your body grow. He’ll keep you where no one can find you, make sure you’re his forever.

He watches you search for one of your other friends from your spot at the bar, hoping you’d make eye contact with him. When your eyes meet his heart stops. He watches your eyes widen, and confusion grow on your face. You rub your eyes to make sure you’re seeing correctly and when you open them again he’s gone.

He walks back to the asylum elated, happy he served you justice. He passes by the security who knows better to question him and the nurses who keep their heads down and mouths shut. There's nothing money can’t buy, and the hospital staff’s silence is definitely not one of them. He changes back into his patient attire and gets into bed as if nothing happened.

_________________________

You’re 100% losing your mind. Either that or Seonghwa was in the same club as you last night which is impossible. You've run through every scenario you could think of and you’ve concluded whatever you feel for him is becoming too strong. You’re considering transferring him to another doctor, the guilt you have from what happened two days ago is sitting on you. That was completely unprofessional and foolish, your risked so much because you’re too fucking horny. Not only that but you took advantage of him, you're in a position of power, you should've said no. You know you wouldn't be able to treat and diagnose him properly. But you also know he’d throw a fit if he gets assigned to a new doctor. This is all too much for you to handle.

Your thoughts are interrupted by someone barging into your office. You look up and see Seonghwa, eyes widening.

“Hwa? Why are you here?”

“I needed to see you.”

“Where are the guards?”

“Don’t worry about that.” he says and locks your office door, worrying you a bit.

“Seonghwa, you’ll get in trouble if they find out you’re here.”

“They won’t find out if you don’t tell.” he says with a smile, walking to your desk.

“Why did you need to see me?”

“I’m sorry for how I acted yesterday. It wasn’t my place to react like that, and I know you were probably already stressed, I shouldn’t have added to that.”

“It's ok, don’t worry.”

“No, it’s not Ok. I keep saying I'll treat you right but I haven't. Let me make it up to you.”

You smile at how much he cares when it should be the other way around.

“And how are you going to make it up?” you say with a light laugh.

“Let me eat you out.”

Your eyes widen.

“Hwa. What happened was a one time thing. We can’t keep doing this.”

“Why?

“You know why.”

“I won’t tell anyone. No one needs to know, Baby. I love you, why would I jeopardize you?” he says, getting on his knees next to your desk chair.

“What if someone sees?”

“I’ll take care of them. With the way I’m about to have you, no one but me gets to see you.”

Your breath quickens. No way you're actually contemplating this. You watch as he turns your chair towards him and places his hands on your thighs.

“What do you say, Sweet girl?”

You nod hesitantly. He smiles up at you spreading your legs and running his hands up your skirt. He flips it up and looks at your pink panties, sucking in a deep breath.

“Just like I imagined.”

He puts his legs on your shoulder and pulls your hips to his face, running his nose along your inner thigh. He’s breathing heavily, his grip on you tightening. He licks a long stipe up your slit over your panties, teasing you. Your hands fly to his soft curls, pulling him closer.

“Please don’t tease” you whisper.

He begins to kiss your cunt, practically making out with it. He’s so sloppy with it, soaking your already soaked panties more. He pulls off your panties with his teeth, shoving them in his pocket before pulling you flush to his lips. He goes straight for your clit, sucking harshly. He's moaning into your cunt, lapping at your pussy like it's the last he’lll ever eat.

“So good, Baby. You taste so fucking goof. The best I’ve ever had.”

He runs two fingers through you, wetting them before easing them inside.

“Fucking hell, you’re gonna be the death of me.”

You can only moan in response, trying to control your volume.

“Tell me how it feels.”

“It’s so good, Hwa. Feels so good.”

“Is it better than that fucker Chris?”

“Yes, so much better.” you moan out, not having enough brain power to question how he knows chris. All you can focus on is his soft tongue running through you and his fingers hitting all the spots you need.

Your back arches as you feel your orgasm coming. “Give it to me baby. I deserve it,I’ve been so good to you.” he speaks into your cunt, his fingers never stopping.

You look down into his wide eyes and see so much emotion in them. He’s so fucking pretty, just the thought that this is the man eating you out makes you let go. Grabbing his hair harshly and somehow pulling him closer as you soak his face. He keeps sucking and licking your clit, slowing the pace of his fingers. When it gets too much you yank his head back, out of breath.

“Fuck, Hwa. That definitely made it up to me.” you laugh, blissed out.

“I’m glad.” he laughs, licking his fingers clean before standing up and kissing you.

“I can make you feel even better.” he smiles, testing his luck.

“Nice try. Can I have my panties back?”

“No can do.” he smiles, kissing you one more time before backing up, helping you put your clothes back in place.

“I’ll see you four, Love.” he says with a wide smile.

“Actually, I need to cancel our session, something came up.” you say solemnly watching his smile drop. All the guilt from before it you once again. You can’t keep doing this. He’s you patient for fucks sake, you can’t fuck him. This is wrong on so many levels.

“So when am I going to see you instead?”

“I’ll let you know.” you say with a frown.

“Oh, Ok. Have a nice night, Y/N.”

“You too, Hwa.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seonghwa can feel something's off. He thought after he ate you out you’d realize you feel the same way about him. But he could tell it had the opposite effect. He tries to sleep but all that's on his mind is you. He looks at the clock on the wall, it's well past 4am, you should definitely be gone. He gets up and opens his door, seeing the guard on night duty fast asleep. He walks to your office and uses the master key he stole from the janitor to unlock the door. He walks over to your desk and scans the papers littering it. He sees a printed out email from your supervisor, listing reports made about you from other patients. Other patients claim you show him favoritism? He knows San was behind this. They claim patient reports you write for him are much more detailed and that's somehow proof of favoritism? You eating lunch with him is somehow inappropriate? He laughs at this, they really have no idea how inappropriate your relationship has gotten. He continues reading, Your supervisor claims he’s showing no improvement and has requested a new doctor for him. He can feel the anger coursing through his veins but he wills himself. He’ll be damned if they try to take you away from him. His months of planning will not go to waste. He’ll live out all his dreams with you, there's no way he won’t.

He walks out of your office, filled with rage. He can’t believe this. He can only imagine how crushed you are. He knows you love him, even if you don’t know it. He knows you’re probably at home distraught. He owes it to you to make sure you two remain together forever.

He goes back to his room, but he still can’t sleep. He stares at the ceiling, imagining your pretty face in an attempt to calm his spirit. He’s rudely interrupted by his door opening. He looks at the clock and sees it's somehow 8am. Time flies so fast when you're on his mind. In walks another doctor he’s seen around the hospital. There's no way this happened so quickly. He can’t believe this. He sees the man speaking to him but he’s not hearing anything besides the ringing in his ears.

“I want Y/N to be my doctor.”

“Unfortunately, she can’t. She hasn’t been making much progress with you. We're hoping a more experienced doctor like myself can help you more than she can.”

He looks at him blankly. He feels himself slipping away. His hands clench and reach under his pillow, grasping his knife as the doctor reads from his clipboard. He won’t let someone speak about you like this. He won’t let them take you away from him. He grabs the doctor's hair and slits his throat, sawing through the man's blood vessels until he falls limp. A guard runs in and attempts to wrestle the knife out of his hands but he overpowers him, plunging the knife into his chest repeatedly. Seonghwa’s fuled by blind rage, no one will stop him from avenging your honor. How dare they speak of you like this as he kills the fourth and final guard to come in. He hears alarms blaring in the distance and looks at the clock. It's 9:05 am, he can feel you on your way to him.

_________________________

The blaring of the alarms push you to run faster, entering the high security section of the hospital. The commotion from down the hall gets louder as you approach his room. You come to a halt as you see a stream of blood running down the hall, coming from beyond his door. A loud thud from inside his room breaks you from your trance, you push open the door, seeing the bodies of guards surrounding his bed.

“Hwa” you gasp, eyes trained on the battered bodies. “What did you do?” you breathe out, finally looking up at him.

He looks up at you from across the room, eyes wide and bloodshot.

“What did I do?” He laughs maniacally. “Y/N, This is your fault. I did this because of you.” he says as he begins to approach you.

“THEY TRIED TO KEEP ME FROM YOU!” He yells. “You were supposed to take care of me. YOU PROMISED!” He traps you against the wall next to the door. “Isn’t that your job? Nurse me back to my right state of mind? Figure out what's wrong with me? But you didn’t do that. No,no, no you just made me fall in love with you, you made me want you! So don’t act like this is my fault.” he says as he lightly drags the knife across your throat.

“No ones going to keep me away from you, my love.” he whispers into your ear. He leans over and locks the door before looking back at you.

“Do you think I’m going to hurt you?”

“No.” you answer with full confidence.

He smiles at you, but it's not the same smile your Seonghwa gives you. You don’t know who this is.

"I want my Hwa back, I don;t like you like this.”

“I am your Hwa, Baby. I did this for you Y/N. Don’t you see how much I love you?” he says, dropping the knife and kissing down your neck.

“I know, Hwa.” you sigh heavily, feeling his cock hardening against your stomach.

“Say you love me too. I know you do.”

Do you love him? Can you love someone who’d do this? The longer you stay quiet the more upset he gets. “It's ok baby. I’ll love you enough for the both of us.” he sighs. “One day you’ll realize how much you love me.”

He runs his hands down your body, squeezing your ass. He flips you around, pressing your chest to the wall.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard, Y/N. I’ll be all you think about for the rest of your life.”

He shoves your pants down and rips your panties off you, rubbing his fingers through you. “Fucking hell, you’re a filthy fucking liar. You do like me like this, look how wet you are.” he says bringing his soaking fingers in front of your face. Your breath quickens, seeing evidence of how wet you are.

“Just fuck me, Hwa.” you groan.

He pulls out his hard cock and rubs his tip through you. “I’ll make you mine, Y/N. You’ll let me cum in you right? Own this pussy”

“Yes, Hwa. Please.”

He lines himself up and slides in slowly, gripping your hips tightly at the sensation.

“F-fuck, Baby. You feel so good, the best I’ve ever had.” he moans out. He fills you up completely, stretching you so painfully but not nicely. You savor the pain, it reminds you of how taboo this is, how much you deserve to feel pain. Youre letting this psychopath fuck you in a room full of bodies, your colleagues blood on your body doing nothing but turning you on. You deserve to feel pain, but he turns that pain into pleasure with the first thrust. It’s like your pussy was made for him, you fit together perfectly. You can feel him in your stomach, so deep inside you, you can feel yourselves becoming one. He picks up his pace, thrusting into you harshly.

“I’ve dreamt of this for so long. I’ve fucked my fist imagining it was this pussy. You couldn't even imagine all the nasty things I’d do to you, Bbay. I’d hurt you so bad but you’d love it, you’d beg me for more. B-beg me to make you mine.”

He pulls out quickly and flips you around, hiking you up the wall. You wrap your legs around his waist as he slides back in, fucking into you while staring into your eyes.

“I need to see that pretty face when I breed you. I have everything planned out for us, Y/N. There's a beautiful house waiting for you, so many rooms to fill up with our beautiful babies. I know you’d be a great mother, my perfect little housewife.”

He picks up his pace, feeling you clenching around him, but desperate to come together.

“I’d keep you full of my seed all the time, my love. You’d always feel me dripping out of you, I’d keep you nice and round with my babies for as long as I can. You want that don’t you? You wanna be my slutty little cum dump?”

You can barely answer him, let alone breathe. He’s hitting it so deep, you feel like your on another planet. You look down into his eyes and nod, mesmerized by his beautiful brown eyes. You’d let him do anything he wanted if it meant you felt like this forever.

“Cum for me, my love. I’m going to fill you up so nicely, ok?”

You let go, clamping down on his cock and hearing his deep groan. His warm cum fills you up to the brim, leaking out of you, despite the vice-like grip your cunt has on him.

“So fucking tight and warm, baby” he blabbers, shallowly thrusting his seed back into you. He pulls you in for a kiss by your neck, claiming your mouth as his own. You pull back for air, giving him a blissed out smile. The words he so badly wants to hear hang on your tongue but you can’t give it to him yet.

“I know, baby. You don’t have to say it, I already know.” he whispers against your lips and sets you down.

He helps you fix your clothes and begins to pull you out of the hospital. As you see the chaos ensuing, the reality of the situation hits you.

“Hwa, where are you taking me?”

“Hongjoong is outside we gotta go before the cops come.”

“Wait, what?” you pull back from him, stopping him in his tracks.

“Y/N, now's not the time.” he growls.

“Tell me what's going on.”

“You really think I was going to stay in this shit hole forever? Y/N, I’m not fucking crazy, I killed those people on purpose. The only reason I’m not rotting in jail is because I paid off the judge. I was planning my escape from the moment I got here but I only stayed this long because of you. So let's go.”

His words break you from your trance. This man is actually insane. You begin backing away from him but he gets visibly upset. “Y/N, don’t try this shit with me. You’re coming with me whether you like it or not.”

The dim lighting of the hallway and red lights from the alarms make him look sinister. For the first time you feel afraid of him.

“I don’t want to go with you, Seonghwa.”

He looks at you blankly before grabbing you harshly. “

“I didn’t want to do it this way, Y/N. I wanted us to be happy, but if I have to force you to want me, so be it. He pulls out the sedative he took from one of the guards and pulls off the cap with his teeth. “You’ll be mine forever Y/N. That baby growing in your belly is proof enough.”

He sticks the syringe into your neck, releasing the chemicals into your body. You feel the drugs immediately kick in, falling limp in his hold.

“Hwa, please don’t.” you whimper.

He caresses your face with a pout. “Don’t worry, Baby. You’ll love me eventually, I’ll make sure of it.”

He flashes you a wide, beautiful smile before everything fades to black.

#ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez x reader #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa smut #yandere ateez #yandere kpop #yandere seonghwa

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michelle-is-writing · 1 year ago

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Concussions, Greg House

Word count: 1.7k~

Warnings: mentions of vomit, concussion, hospital rooms.

Arguing with your boss is one of the worst things you can do with your boss. For my boyfriend of almost a year, it was nothing new. Plus, in Greg's mind, there were worse things one could do with their time. Like argue with me, his girlfriend - that was much worse than arguing with his boss, according to him.

Still, that didn't mean that he could always get away with arguing with his boss. Especially around Christmas time when the hours were needed and he just so happened to be an asshole. Anyone could figure out why I was upset when he told me he was unable to get Christmas Day off. He just had to be rude to Cuddy the day before he asked, and because of it, we both have to suffer.

Despite him promising to call me almost every hour, I still felt lonely when it came to Christmas Day. I woke up without the love of my life beside me, and I'll be alone until he gets home around nine in the evening. When Cuddy told him she couldn't give up the hours, he was especially rude in response, therefore earning more hours to work that day.

Right now it's around eleven in the morning, and even though I've put on a Christmas movie and made myself hot cocoa, I still feel sad. I have no one to spend this great day with, and it sucks. Maybe a nice walk outside will help me feel better. It's cold and snowing, but I can always wear a heavy coat and boots - no biggie. Besides, I may even see a pair of cardinals flying through the white sky like a holiday card straight from the hallmark section, and it would make the weather all the worth it.

Slipping on my fuzzy black boots that Greg got me at the beginning of our relationship, I throw on my fleece coat before heading out front. The lights strung on everyone's apartment are lit up, and the people that have their Christmas trees in front of their windows have them lit up as well. The green and red bulbs are a nice contrast to the white snow that fills every window sill and yard, making it look almost like a floating blanket on all the little segments of grass. It's such a beautiful sight to see, but it makes me miss Greg even more. He's always pessimistic, but even he would be happy with the looks of everything.

Stepping off the steps and onto the pavement, I take a few steps forward, only to look up and see a pair of cardinals flying above me just like I wanted. I marvel at the beautiful red shade of the male next to the equally beautiful olive colored female floating next to it. When they find their mates, a pair of cardinals can never be separated as they are mated for life. The idea of such a thing makes you smile, but the idea of finding your own true mate? It feels nearly impossible.

I seem to find the cardinals very distracting as the next thing I see is the pure white sky above me as I feel myself slip, my arms and legs flailing to grab onto something as I fall backward. However, they don't, and I end up landing on my back with my head colliding against the ice I slipped on. Everything happens so fast that I barely recognize the pain rushing to my cranium or mine and Greg's elderly neighbor rushing toward me as concerned words flow out of her mouth. Despite wanting to respond, I can't, and instead, my eyes close as I feel myself slip into a vast sea on unconsciousness.

It isn't until I finally wake up once again that I register the pounding pain in the back of my head. It nearly makes my eyes roll back, but before I can even do that, I quickly lean over the edge of the surface I'm lying on and feel the contents of my stomach empty. I soon feel a pair of hands gently pull my hair back as I do so, my eyes clearing up enough to watch a nurse’s legs in purple scrubs quickly push a trash can in front of me to finish vomiting into. However, it doesn't take long before I’m done and I almost fall back onto the slightly stiff surface I'm on, a damp cloth wiping at my mouth once I do so. Flashing my eyes throughout the room, I recognize the bright fluorescent lights above me as ones used in a hospital room and the surface I'm on is one of the uncomfortable beds in a hospital room. Great.

Turning my eyes over to the source of the hand holding the wet cloth, I find it to be the man I've been wanting to see all morning, a worried look etched onto his face. I want to fling myself in his arms and hug him, but my almost drunken haze prohibits me from doing so. Instead, I languidly smile and tiredly reach a hand up toward him, to which he takes in his own hand with a small smile.

"How in the hell," he begins, his voice taking over the almost stuffy noise in my ears. Gently running his thumb against the back of my hand, he takes the damp rag away from my face before tossing it onto the lid of the biohazard bin a few feet away. "Did you get yourself a grade two concussion just by walking outside?"

"I didn't mean to," I defend myself, trying to sit up a little, despite the deep pounding in my head. Greg helps me, but not before pushing my head back against the pillows to angle my face upward. "I just wanted to go for a small walk, and see some cardinals maybe! I did, by the way, and man, were they beautiful."

"You seem to be doing better than I thought," Greg points out, hovering over me to look into my eyes with a flash light. "No confusion or seemingly dizziness," he lists off. "You just seem fatigued and dazed, which is to be expected. The good news is you don't have memory loss."

"Who are you again?" I quickly throw at him, earning a downcast face with a frown. I immediately laugh at his reaction while reaching up to take his face in my hands, but his hands catch mine before they're even halfway there. I really am tired.

"I would say you're also having some psychological disturbances, but it's nothing different from usual," Greg jokes back, making me laugh again. At this, he smiles, but continues on. "How bad is your head pain?"

"Compared to the constant headache you give me, it's nothing," I tell him, once again, earning an eye roll in response. I know he's wanting to throw playful insults back at me, but he's trying to keep the moment as serious as he can. Don't get me wrong, I understand how severe my situation is, but I just can't help but take the chance to banter with Greg like he usually does with me.

With a sigh, Greg sits back in the armchair beside my hospital bed before taking something out of his pocket. "You just had to hit your head so you could end up in the hospital with me today," Greg chides, holding the rectangular box in his hand as he stares at it. "I guess irony plays a huge part in life's never ending game of... slipping and falling on ice!"

With his sarcastic comment, Greg pushes the box toward me as I smile at him, my hand reaching out to take the box from him. "Open it," Greg tells me, scooting his chair beside me to be closer to my bed. Doing as he says, I shakily unwrap the green ribbon from the box before slightly struggling to open it, my hands trembling from being asleep for so long.

With the maroon velvet box now open, I gasp upon seeing the diamond tennis bracelet shining back at me with the bright hospital room lights causing each beautiful crystal to sparkle like a thousand pieces of glitter. "Oh my God, Greg," I mutter, my eyes flashing over to him beside me. "This is... beyond gorgeous."

Smiling, Greg lifts one of his hands to brush my hair away from my face before using the other to take the bracelet out of the box and secure it around my wrist. "Merry Christmas," He tells me, leaning over to kiss my cheek. "I thought you would like this."

"I-I love it, Greg," I tell him, looking over at him with a frown. "But I don't have my gift for you! They're at the apartment and-and I wanted to give it to you so bad-"

Greg cuts me off from my rambling, an almost flabbergasted expression washing over his face. "Are you kidding?" He sarcastically asks me, reaching over to take my now diamond covered hand in his. "You ending up in the hospital with me is possibly the best thing you could do today, as morbid as it sounds," Crinkling my face at him with amusement, I shake my head at his demented words as he continues on. "This means I don't have to do what Cuddy says and stay in here with you and watch I Love Lucy."

Just as he says this, Greg takes the remote from the side table and turns the TV on, flipping through the channels before finding the show mentioned seconds earlier. Glancing away from our intertwined hands, I smile at Greg as he turns to look back at me as well. "I love you, Greg," I tell him, receiving a smile back before he leans over once more and presses a kiss to my cheek.

Sitting back in his chair, Greg keeps my hand in his as we both look over to the TV and watch as Lucy banters with Ricky just as Greg and I did moments ago. At this, I smile and ignore the pain in my head as I enjoy the positives of today despite being in a hospital. My loving partner beside me, a beautiful diamond bracelet on my wrist, and I Love Lucy reruns on the TV in front of us. As long as I'm with Greg, it doesn't matter where I spend my Christmas - just as long as he's by my side, I'll be fine.

#greg house #gregory house #house #dr house #greg house x reader #greg house imagine #greg house imagines #gregory house imagine #gregory house x reader #gregory house imagines #house md #house md x reader #house md imagine #house md imagines #dr house x reader #dr house imagine #dr house imagines

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cranberrv · 1 year ago

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enchanted

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ in which dallas winston falls for the new girl

( a/n : i love this request sm!! reader is fem by the way, also not proofread also ooc! still cute tho! )

not many people wanted to move to tulsa, but for some people, it was their only option. that was the first similarity spotted between you and dallas.

of course, you and dallas were on different sides of the track, different chapters in a novel. you moved to tulsa for your fathers work, you were perfectly happy back at your old city, but you didn’t have a choice. dallas moved to tulsa to escape from the new york police.

you thought tulsa was bland. it was only your first week here, your first week emerced with all the other teenagers at school, but everyone here was grey. especially the east-side kids, the greasers. they were all broke and it looked like all the life was sucked out of them.

you, on the other hand, were fresh from los angeles, with a feminine flare to yourself and a genuine kindness that was rare in tulsa. even the rich kids were rude, but you were anything but.

it was the start of your second week of school, and your least favourite class was science. not because of the subject, it was just that the people in your class gave you dirty looks and the teacher had a voice that could put you to sleep. and your lab partner in the seat next to you had been away the entire time, leaving you to do projects alone.

today was supposed to be the exact same as usual. at the start of class, you walk in and sit down alone. the teacher does the attendance, and marks your mystery lab partner absent. today is independent work, finishing up a lab report and then doing a worksheet on protons and electrons. you want to fall asleep, it’s so boring. you’re listening to every silent conversation and looking out the window for a source of entertainment. you got your wish soon enough, as the door creaks open.

“hello,” your teacher greets to the boy that enters the room. “you are?”

“dallas winston,” he answers, throwing his burnt-out cigarette in the trash.

your teacher nods her head. “ah, you’re dallas winston,” the voice is slow as she pieces it together. you wonder why the words are said in such distaste.

you’ve given up on your work, watching dallas winston. he looks like an east-side kid, his hair is a bit messy and he radiates confidence. he certainly puts out an energy unlike anyone in this school.

they talk for a bit longer, the teacher obviously telling him it’s not okay to skip class. dallas tries to argue back for a little bit, but eventually gives up and holds his hands up in mock-surrender. the teacher takes a breath then points to you, giving him a worksheet and telling him to go sit next to you. he follows the teachers finger, and he tilts his head when he looks at you, trying to figure out if he knows you or not. his eyes light up a bit when you make eye contact with him. you like the way he looks at you.

dallas walks over, and sits next to you. there’s a few moments of silence as he gets himself settled. spitting out his gum, taking off his leather jacket, and finally landing his eyes on his sheet. he reads over the questions, and realizes has no idea how to do any of this. “you got a pencil?” he asks you.

“yeah, in my pencil case, help yourself,” you answer, and he grabs your pencil case and sifts through it to find one.

he takes one out and hands it back. you say thank you, and he thinks it was unnecessary to be polite about a simple thing but doesn’t say anything. “mechanical, huh?” he says about the pencil, pushing on the bottom to get the lead out. “expensive. what, you a soc or somethin’?”

you look from your worksheet up at him. he has a nice jawline, you notice. “a what?” you ask. an innocent question in your eyes, but one that has a lot more meaning for dallas.

who the hell doesn’t know what a soc is? he stares at you for a second, eyebrows furrowing. not out of annoyance, but out of genuine confusion about why you don’t know about the class-status that built up the entire reputation of tulsa. you know what a greaser is, but not a soc. and you barely know what a greaser is, anyway. you’ve just been told to stay away.

“you know, a rich-kid. a west-side kid.” you still look confused, and he comes to the conclusion that you’re not from here. so when he notices the confused look in your eye, he changes the subject. “where ya from, sugar?”

“i just moved from los angeles,” you tell him. his eyes drift down to your cute lace pink top. he thinks it’s totally something that someone from LA would wear. there’s a speck of silence as he analyzes you, and you feel the need to break it.

“i shoulda guessed,” he says with a raise of his eyebrows. you don’t know if he’s being mean or not. you hope he’s not mean.

“what do you mean?”

“i mean you look like you’re from hollywood or somethin’, with all the lace and the flashy bows and shit..” he’s poking at the lace lining your top. you can see him thinking about something while he’s looking at your lace. “christ, your lingerie collection must be insane, huh?”

there’s a blink of silence and a look of slight disbelief on your face. “what?”

“i’m messin’ with ya, sweetheart,” he chuckles.

“oh,” you say softly, cheeks going a bit hot.

“so,” he starts, switching the topic to a different note. “why’d ya move to fuckin’ tulsa?”

“my dad got a job here,” you explain, fiddling with your pencil in your hands. “why?”

“just curious,” he shrugs. “you know, most people don’t move to this hellhole.”

“you did,” you say, and he tilts his head. you think he’s looking at you because you’re just assuming things, and you’re probably wrong, so he’s judging you. “did you not?”

he cracks a smile. he wasn’t judging you, simply curious as to how you guessed he wasn’t from here. “yeah, i did, sugar,” he nods, leaning back in his seat. “how’d ya know?”

“your accent,” you explain. “very new yorker.”

“yeah? you like it?”

you mirror his smile. “yeah, i do.”

the class falls silent as the teacher insists everyone quiets down and focuses. dally's voice drops to a whisper when he responds, playfully pushing you away. “alright, miss hollywood, go do your work,” he teases. “gonna tell the teacher you’re distracting me,” he threatens, obviously playing around because he knows that he’s the one distracting you.

you smile and turn your head back to your sheet to finish it up. you begin peacefully working. dallas can’t help but stare at you as you do so. nibbling at your pencil while you’re thinking, constantly adjusting your top, brushing your hair out of your face every now and then, he notices it all. he can’t help it, he thinks you’re the sweetest person he’s ever seen.

you look up at him, feeling his intense gaze on you. you make eye contact and instantly turn away again, cheeks going pink like a tulip. why is he looking at you? do you have something on your face? you don’t know. you subconsiously wipe your cheek to make sure, and adjust your top again.

dallas finally looks away, and you take a breath and relax your shoulders. as much as he was acting sweet towards you, you could tell he had this rough edge that you should be worried about. but what truly worried you is the fact that his edge didn’t worry you. if anything, it lured you in. you wanted to learn everything about him. he was like the ocean, he was calm and beautiful but you had to swim out far and dive deep down to find out everything about him. and it felt like no one had, yet. he was a mystery. you liked that.

as you’re working, you hear the rip of lined paper beside you, then the scratch of a pencil. a few moments later, dallas hands you a piece of paper with a note on it.

“how do you do question 1?“ it reads.

you read the note and look up at him, smiling. you write down your answer, saying that he needs a calculator. you hand him yours, assuming correctly that he doesn’t own one.

he slides you another note a few seconds later. “it keeps saying weird shit on the calculator”

“what does it say?” you write back.

he takes longer than usual to write. you wait in anticipation. after what feels like forever (but was probably 15 seconds) he hands you another note. you read the numbers. you don’t understand how he got that answer. you read over it again, and then it clicks. it’s his phone number.

he’s looking at you as you read it. you look up at him and gently nod, putting his number in your pocket. you rip another piece of paper and write down, “i’ll call you.”

he reads it and writes back, and is about to hand it to you, until he quickly takes it back and adds something. then he hands it to you.

“good. (p.s. your little lace top is kinda cute)”

you read his little p.s. and smile to yourself, then to him. you mouth thank you to him. he mouths “anytime” back.

you have a feeling this won’t be the last time you and dallas winston say hello to each other in science class.

#the outsiders #dallas winston #dally winston #dallas #dallas winston imagine #dallas winston headcanons #dallas winston x reader #dallas winston fluff #dally winston fluff

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rosekeu · 16 days ago

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BAD REVIEWS [PART TWO] : shigaraki tomura x reader [taglist OPEN!]

“i'm intentionally careless, at least i got self awareness. just want someone to love me who doesn’t.”

<< previous — next >>

The walk back home was shameful. Painful even. Your soaked shoes squelched with every step you took, water sloshing inside them like a cruel joke. Your clothes clung blatantly, heavy and cold against your shivering skin. A constant, suffocating layer of regret of what you just had done.

The city lights blurred through the haze of rain and tears, all smeared into a mix of despair and sorrow.

What the hell were you thinking?

Looking for your one-night stand so carelessly? Barging into a man’s home with trembling hands and delusional fantasies?

Could you have been more stupid?

At one point—just before you reached the train station— you doubled over, hand pressed meekly to your stomach. A strong wave of nausea taking over you, hot and debilitating. Running to the nearest dumpster to empty the contents of your stomach into the gutter.

Your throat burned. Your eyes stung. And for a moment, you stayed there, kneeling in the filth of the overcrowded streets of Japan. One hand braced on the wall, the other protectively hovering near your abdomen.

The station lights were buzzing faintly in the distance. You eventually forced yourself to your feet and kept walking—shoulders hunched and soaked to a feverish degree.

When you finally boarded the train people stared.

You wrapped your arms around yourself tighter as if that could hold everything in—your pride, your fear, your breaking heart.

He just threw you out. Like trash.

Unbothered. Maybe even– relieved.

The mere thought punches you in the gut.

You catch a glimpse of your reflection on the train window, smeared makeup, hollow eyes, a girl trying to do the right thing and getting kicked into the dirt for it.

You rest your hand gently over your stomach.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered to no one. Taking a deep breath in trying to keep your emotions at bay. “I really tried.”

—

It was 3am, as you fumbled the keys of your shared family home, fingers trembling, breath shaky. The hallway was dark, still and cold. Too quiet for any comfort.

As you shut the door behind you, trying to go unnoticed, a voice cut through the silence.

“The hell are you doing out so late?”

You jumped. Your head snapped up.

Katsuki stood at the edge of the hallway, arms crossed, sleep-mussed hair sticking in every direction, scowling like he had any right to parent you.

“Jesus! Kats–” You took a deep breath in, calming your nerves. You blinked, caught between guilt and disbelief. “Why are you up?”

He snorted. “Didn’t feel like sleepin’.”

You raised a brow, toeing off your ruined shoes. “Uh-huh. Says the one who goes to bed at eight o'clock.”

“Shut the hell up. You disappear in the middle of the night and come back lookin’ like a drowned sewer rat and I’m just supposed to not say anything?”

You huffed, dragging your soggy coat off your shoulders. “What are you, my mom now?”

He made a face. “Hell no. Mom wouldn’t have let you back in after pullin’ some dumbass stunt like this.”

You scowled. “I didn’t pull anything.”

He throws you a look— one of those sharp, are-you-fucking-with-me-right-now looks that makes you deadpan in silence.

“Yeah, you fucking did. It’s so obvious.” Then his prominent scowl softens just a bit. “You don’t just leave like that, not after the fight you had with Mom.”

You flinched. That word—fight—felt too small for what actually happened.

“I needed air,” you muttered, sitting on one of the stools near the kitchen counter and avoiding his eyes. He followed you. And without a word, he dug his hands into the fridge and pulled out some leftover soup from earlier– the smell of your mom’s cooking still hung around you as everything else felt like it was falling apart.

He poured it into a bowl, heated it in the microwave, and slid it across the table to you.

“Bullshit.”

You let out a tired sigh, still staring at the bowl. “It started raining and I didn’t bring an umbrella. Then I dropped my phone into a puddle. Spent half the night looking for it like an idiot. Found it. Happy ending.”

When you look up at him you could tell he wasn't buying a single thing that had come from your mouth. But he didn’t push, either. He just nodded once, biting back whatever he really wanted to say.

You just couldn’t disappoint him. Anyone but Kats.

With your mom it’s like she expects it from you and your dad isn’t much of a voice when it comes to arguments.

But how would you even break the news?

“So yeah, I got pregnant a few weeks ago when I marched out super angry after that big fight with mom. Went to tell the asshole who impregnated me and said he never wanted to see me again and threw me out into the streets!”

Wow. Big sis of the year, right here.

He reached across the table and nudged your bowl toward you a little more. “Eat.”

And you did. Not because you were hungry, but because he asked. Because he stayed up. Because you were tired of running from every little thing that hurt.

“Pinky swear on your stupid All Might socks you won’t tell mom?” Holding up your raised pinky at his face. Your voice cracking just a little.

He rolled his eyes and intertwined his own pinky with yours. “Pinky swear.”

Because even if the whole world felt like it was falling apart—Kats never let go.

—

She shouldn't have shown up.

That’s all he kept thinking about.

Not the way her voice cracked when she said his name. Not the way she looked like she wanted him to be someone else. Just—

She shouldn't have shown up.

Shigaraki paced the lengths of the hideout's dark hallway, nails digging and scratching at the skin of his neck. The floor creaked annoyingly with every step he took, but he didn’t care. Let the whole place rot. Let it all fall apart around him for all he cared.

Would’ve been easier than whatever the hell… this was.

“I’m pregnant.” She said, but she never needed to. He saw it. The way her hands carefully rubbed her belly. The glimmer in her eyes.

Her hope.

Her mistake.

Shigaraki stopped moving. Stood still in the center of the hallway like someone had hit pause on him. His lips twitched—half a sneer, half a wince.

She wasn’t supposed to come back. Not after that night.

That night where both of them fell into temptation. Not after he left a note saying to never contact him again. Making sure she knew exactly what this wasn't. That it was nothing.

She was nothing.

He was nothing.

“Get the fuck out. I don’t want to see your face ever again.”

He said it sharp enough to cut her.

So why did he feel carved open now?

His hand spasmed, and a small piece of drywall crumbled to dust beneath his fingers. He didn’t even notice he’d touched it.

“Tch.” A harsh sound tore from his throat as he turned away, yanking his hoodie further over his head like it could shield him from the thought clawing at the back of his mind.

She had been crying.

He hated that it affected him.

Even more, he hated that part of him wanted to go after her.

A/N: more exposition for this chapter :) a bit of a slow burn & angst because its tomura... tagging everyone who was waiting on part two: @rax-writes @radlightfire @pastelygrape (if you would NOT like to be tagged lmk) (if you WANNA be tagged also lmk)

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toovaeloe · 11 months ago

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bus stop 𝝑𝝔 “If I was your boyfriend, you sure as hell wouldn’t be waiting at a bus stop.”

suguru geto x genderneutral reader

no curse au

You’ve used the “I have a boyfriend” excuse and you may have just manifested one. Or a gorgeous man, at the very least

☁️🚏☁️

This was the worst, you think. Had to be punishment for something you did in a past life.

For starters, you were late for work. Was it your fault for staying up so late, giggling and doom-scrolling through mounds of mind numbing media? Yeah, maybe…

Let’s blame it on the weather. Your alarm didn’t wake you up after you silenced it. The neighbor’s dog wouldn’t stop barking through the night. But it’s not like you could tell your boss any off that.

So that’s why you raced out the door, haphazardly juggling your belongings in your arms. Wallet. Keys. Phone. Something else you couldn’t quite remember at the moment. Did you have everything? Probably; no time to check now. Only to find when you stomped on the brake and turned the key in the ignition…your car wouldn’t start.

Sputter…sputter…and then nothing.

Great.

There’s your late-to-work-excuse.

Maybe you shouldn’t have ignored the “maintenance needed” symbols that have been lighting up your dash like they want their own holiday. To be fair, time and money just weren’t things that came in abundance.

In any case, as you were sitting in that local garage enduring the mechanic babbling on about vehicle expertise junk you just couldn’t begin to understand, zoning out and nodding every few minutes with a halfhearted “hmm,” so it at least looked like you were absorbing information…you made note to at least revisit the idea of changing your smoke alarm’s batteries before it decided to turn on you, too.

But that was last week.

7-9 business days.

That’s how long until your car would be up and running again. Apparently, according to the mechanic, you were lucky it was even that. Apparently. Which meant you needed some other means of transportation to and from work and such.

Lucky you had the local bus service, right?

WRONG.

They were always late, but you still felt the need to get to the stops on time, lest you have a repeat of 5 days ago. (You showed up only 2 minutes late and were left behind at the store. Had to wait for an hour for your friend to get off her shift and come pick you up.) You highly doubted it, but what with the way the world was shitting on you right now, it wasn’t out of the question. And the city’s money obviously wasn’t going towards public transportation— they could qualify as garbage trucks if they really needed them with how trashed they were. Mystery sticky patches on the seat, gum underneath. The inconsolable children whining their heads off. That was kind of cute at first, but now it made you want to throw yourself out the window. The whole thing was just the experience that you could expect from a free public transportation system.

And why was it so rainy this month??? Ugh.

But what could you do but make do with what you had? Complaining definitely wasn’t making your shoes any less waterlogged. Be grateful, or some shit like that.

That evening, however, as you were waiting twenty minutes past the time the bus was supposed to arrive at the stop after an exhausting work day…you were just so fed up with everything. With the puddle water soaking through your shoes, with the way you had to stand because the benches were damp…with this rando-guy who had walked up next to you that you were half sure kept looking at you. To say the least, it only served to annoy you in your already sour mood.

You were willing to just ignore it. Until he stepped closer.

“Hey I’m uh…I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you around.”

Oooohh boy.

“Yeah, yeah, it is you. I’ been taking the bus sometimes. Usually I’m riding my motorcycle but uh, not today.”

Did you ask?

“Thought I’d drop by.”

The public bus stop. (???)

“What’s yer name, toots?”

Yeah no. Go back to the 1950’s and maybe that’d work there. You’d rather lick the mystery sticky shit off the bus seat. You could pick up a date 10x better without opposable thumbs.

All of the above is what you would’ve liked to say. Alas, you were tired. You didn’t want trouble that would take more energy than it was worth. So before he could go any further, you just coined the foolproof line.

“I have a boyfriend.”

Lie. You didn’t, but it was the first thing that came to mind. And if that didn’t make him lose interest, then he must really be a pathetic asswipe.

Sadly, he was. In terms of getting the hint to shut up, the guy looked barely deterred; offended even, as he prattled on.

“Well why were you acting so into me then, huh?” You definitely didn’t. You don’t even know this dude.

“I wasn’t even going for you.” He definitely was.

“You’re—“ X, Y, and Z. Just because his game is trifling?? You felt a headache coming on. And maybe a bout of anxiety. People are crazy, and the last thing you wanted was for this needless situation to escalate into something dangerous.

The entire mess was occurring just as Suguru was making the commute to work on the same street. But he found himself slowing nearly to a stop when he caught sight of you.

How could a person look so exhausted; hair extra frizzy, floccose from the humid rain, clothes soaked, droplets of the downpour dribbling onto your cheeks and blinked away from your lashes…and still so breathtaking? Or perhaps that was part of your beauty in this moment. You looked every bit done with the day, but who knew when- if— he’d ever see you again? He’d be stupid, a fool to not at least try to strike up a conversation with you. He’d be…

…Probably like that idiot.

A sulky moue twisted at his expression as he witnessed the disgraceful way this loser was fumbling. Oh dear. His approach lacked so much grace, so much respect…it was really just distasteful. You didn’t deserve that. And frankly, he didn’t think he deserved to watch you be treated like that when he knew he could do so much better.

“Sorry to keep you waiting!”

A merry sounding tone directed your way had your head sharply whipping to the source. A tall dark haired man you’ve never seen before; layered in a gray colored quarter zip and dark slacks, you think. His approach was casual and relaxed, a subtly jovial yet inherently guileful grin tugging at his lips. He even waved to you like an old friend. His entire facade was so convincing you considered for a moment if you had known him from somewhere and simply forgotten.

No, you really wouldn’t have forgotten a face like that. Eyes like those. A presence so contrasting of itself and yet so cohesive in its own way, if you had to try and describe it. Just a damn beautiful man. With eyebrows that were beginning to crease on his forehead.

Ooh, you were staring.

More than that, he was giving you a pointed look that you didn’t notice while drooling over the poor guy. Unfortunately for you, slo-mo’s only happened in movies, and in reality you just looked like an ogling dork. But you didn’t have time to dwell on your embarrassment when he was quite obviously urging you to play along with this illusion he was creating.

And so you did.

“Oh- hi! No worries,” You insisted in an awkward attempt to adapt to this new charade.

“‘Hasn’t been that long,” though your reaction to his presence wasn’t as well-articulated, it was convincing enough.

The other dude looked to be at least somewhat suspicious, and might’ve spoken on it if wasn’t for Geto’s scrutinizing gaze and a simple raise of his brow.

“Can I help you?” And just for good measure, he’d wrap his arm around you, sliding his hand into your coat pocket as if he’s done it a million times before to pull you closer against him. Whatever glare this ravenette man was glowering down the length of his nose at this guy with must’ve been scarring, because he murmured some half-assed excuse before scampering away.

You idly wondered how’d he get wherever he was going without the bus.

Or maybe you’d have more time to think about it if your brain wasn’t short-circuiting, acutely aware of the unworldly attractive man’s hand resting just over your hip.

“Sorry,” Geto spoke after a few beats, languidly retracting his arm from your coat and back to his side. “You looked like you were about to burst a blood vessel entertaining him. I hope I didn’t overstep. Y’know, with your boyfriend and all.” He had to have overheard you earlier.

But the way he spoke made it sound as if he doubted that fact, glancing to either side of you as if to say That is nowhere in sight..? without being so overtly rude. Or maybe he just wasn’t all that apologetic.

“That-! Yeah,” You pepped with a nervous pitter of laughter, “yeah…it’s not a problem, thanks.”

Your hand gravitated to the zipper of your jacket, absentmindedly fiddling with it as you frantically thought up an at least half decent explanation. One that wouldn’t make you sound more clumsy than you already felt.

“He’s not real, so he won’t mind.”

Yeah, real smooth. What was that you said; about being able to pick up a date without opposable thumbs? You’d need at least ten pairs of hands.

But Suguru didn’t seem to mind. In fact, his grin widened into something toothy and almost boyish, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that added an innocent charm to his otherwise elegant features. He found it endearing.

“Perfect,” His response was coupled with a discreet chuckle.

“Don’t feel obligated,” He’d continue as he reached to the side of you. So close to brushing your shoulder, it made your breath hitch. Though truly he was reaching around you, sharply tearing a flier from the side of the bus stop and pulling a pen from one of his pockets. If you were paying more attention you’d have noticed the glint of impish amusement in his umber eyes that led one to believe that action was more deliberate than he let on.

Still, he’d make quick work of jotting down a phone number and the address of a nice restaurant he’s been meaning to try with Satoru— but plans change. “but I’d like to take you out. I was on my way over to ask you, anyhow.”

He offered the page to you; his handwriting as sumptuous and calligraphic as you would’ve expected his penmanship to be; in the margins of some tacky ad for a lawn mowing service. As you went to accept the paper, however, he rescinded it from reach. All whilst drawing closer so that his piercing dark amber eyes held your gaze with an unwavering intensity. The kind that made your stomach do flips and stole your breath away.

“And for the record,” He spoke quietly but poised; a conspiratorial whisper for only you, him, and the rain to witness. “if I was your boyfriend, you sure as hell wouldn’t be waiting at a bus stop.”

There wasn’t time to react; he was already slipping the page into your pocket, withdrawing to a comfortable proximity all the while waving you off and wishing you well with a kind smile, disappearing someplace else.

You didn’t even catch his name.

At least your bus was here.

a/n: I had something to say but I totally forgot 😭

OH but I did add an upcoming section to my masterlist so you can see my works in the works if you’d like! 🤍 always open to ideas too

Dear god I crave geto with that loose low bun that’s barely a bun kind of hairstyle. Ykwim???

ty for reading 🤍🤍🤍 love you have a lovely lovely day or night

edit: OMG THATS WHAT I WAS GONNA SAY. I kept accidentally writing bust stop instead of bus stop as I wrote this. So, sorry if you bust

☁️☁️☁️

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goldfades · 3 months ago

Note

what does a quiet night in look like for luka and shy reader? I feel like he’s just so cuddly and won’t leave her side, even when they’re cooking dinner

it'd be so soft and domestic! its literally my fav ever

The apartment was quiet except for the faint hum of the kitchen fan and the slow simmer of something on the stove. The windows were cracked open just enough to let in the cool evening air, the city outside a muffled backdrop of distant car horns and passing footsteps. But inside, the world felt small. Cozy.

Luka had been glued to your side since he got home.

Not in an overbearing way—just Luka in the way he always was with you, lingering touches and lazy affection, his presence big and warm and there. He had come through the door earlier, immediately seeking you out, pressing a slow kiss to the top of your head before flopping onto the couch, patting his chest as an invitation for you to curl up against him.

You had stayed like that for a while, wrapped in a comfortable quiet, his hand moving absentmindedly up and down your back. Luka had always been like that—touchy, but never overwhelming. He liked to feel you there, even in silence, even in stillness.

Eventually, your stomach had grumbled, and Luka, with a lazy smirk, had nudged you up and mumbled, “C’mon, let’s make something.”

And now, here you were, standing in the kitchen, trying to make dinner—except Luka was making that a little difficult.

“You’re in the way,” you murmured, elbowing him gently as you reached for a pan.

“I’m helping,” he countered, completely ignoring the fact that he hadn’t actually done anything.

You shot him a look, but Luka only grinned, looping his arms around your waist from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“Luka,” you sighed, though there wasn’t any real annoyance in your voice.

He hummed against your skin. “What?”

“You’re not helping.”

“I am.”

“You’re literally just holding me.”

“Exactly,” he said, like he had just won the argument.

You huffed a quiet laugh, shaking your head. His arms tightened slightly, pulling you closer, his body warm against your back.

“This is why it takes us forever to make dinner,” you murmured, trying not to melt too much into his touch.

Luka pressed a slow, lazy kiss to your shoulder. “You love it.”

You didn’t dignify that with a response—mostly because he was right.

Luka was always like this on quiet nights, when it was just the two of you, no games, no travel, no media. Just home. And you.

He was soft in ways that people didn’t always see. Everyone knew the Luka who talked trash, who hit impossible shots with a smirk, who played with an edge. But this Luka—the one who couldn’t stop touching you, the one who clung to you like you were his anchor—that was the version of him that was entirely yours.

You turned in his hold, looking up at him. He was already watching you, eyes soft, a lazy smile tugging at his lips.

“You gonna actually help, or just keep being a distraction?” you teased.

Luka pretended to think about it. Then—“Distraction.”

You rolled your eyes, but your lips twitched, betraying your amusement.

Still, you tried to focus, shifting back toward the stove, but Luka didn’t let go, his arms staying securely around you, his hands splaying over your stomach like he was making sure you wouldn’t leave his hold.

You sighed, but let him stay there, letting the warmth of his body seep into yours.

“What are we making?” Luka murmured against your neck, like he had only just now thought to ask.

“Pasta.”

“Mm. You’re good at pasta.”

You huffed. “I literally just boil water and throw noodles in.”

Luka grinned. “Still good.”

You shook your head, stirring the sauce, trying not to focus too much on the way his breath was warm against your skin, the way he was so much—big hands, broad chest, solid warmth surrounding you completely.

“You’re clingy tonight,” you murmured after a moment, voice quieter now, softer.

Luka hummed, his lips brushing against your jaw. “Missed you.”

You swallowed. “You were gone for, like, four hours.”

“Still missed you,” he said simply.

Your chest tightened at that. Luka never said things just to say them. He was honest in a way that was both blunt and endearing, never sugarcoating, never over-explaining. He felt things deeply and never saw the point in hiding it.

You let your head rest against his shoulder for a moment, letting the quiet settle around you.

“Missed you too,” you admitted.

Luka smiled against your skin, pressing a soft kiss there before finally, finally, loosening his grip just enough for you to move.

“Alright,” he sighed dramatically. “Guess I’ll help.”

You snorted. “Wow. What a sacrifice.”

Luka smirked but didn’t say anything, finally stepping away to grab a spoon, stirring the sauce like it was some big contribution.

It didn’t take long before everything was done, and soon, you were curled up on the couch, plates balanced on your laps, the TV playing some random movie in the background.

Luka ate like he had been starving for days, making a satisfied noise after his first bite. “Mm. Told you. Good pasta.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, nudging him with your knee.

The night stretched on, the kind of slow, peaceful night that made everything feel right. At some point, your plate ended up on the coffee table, your head resting against Luka’s chest as his fingers trailed absentmindedly along your arm.

“Sleepy?” he murmured.

You yawned, eyes heavy. “A little.”

Luka made a quiet noise, shifting slightly so you were even more tucked against him.

“Stay here,” he murmured.

You smiled, already half-asleep. “Didn’t plan on leaving.”

Luka pressed a slow kiss to your hair, his arms wrapping around you completely, like he never wanted to let go.

And in the quiet of your small world, in the warmth of his arms, you knew—

He never would.

#luka doncic #luka doncic x reader #luka dončić #luka dončić x reader

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secretl1fe0fm3 · 6 months ago

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can’t take it back once it’s been set in motion ~ matty healy x fem!reader

this is slightly inspired by my favorite ovulation song; oxytocin by billie eilish

warnings: smut, inexperienced!reader, service top!matty, slight power imbalance, excessive use of the word ‘love’, matty going down soft sound, aftercare, soft(ish) dom!matty, sub!reader.

18+ minors dni!!!

2.8k+ words

You sigh lightly as your phone lights up your pitch black room, mocking your current state of insomnia. You had set it down over an hour ago to try and force yourself to sleep, but even with a lack of the blue light, you were still wide awake. Sitting up, you reach for your phone and notice an unknown number calling you. Already being unable to sleep, you decide to entertain whoever could possibly be calling you at this hour. Ultimately, deciding to answer.

“Hello?” You speak slowly and softly, still somewhat tired despite being unable to sleep.

“Thank god you answered.” Said the voice, relieved, on the other end of the line.

“Matty?” You could recognize that voice anywhere, even though you were seventy percent sure you were hallucinating right now.

“Im sorry to bother you at this hour, love. I need your help.” Matty breathes out, his voice sounding rushed. You groan to yourself, barely audible. You and Matty had been friends for years, meeting through a mutual friend, but you haven’t heard from him in almost two years until now. He practically ghosted your friendship when he found himself in a new, yet toxic relationship. But, based on the headlines you had read the other day scrolling twitter, they had finally called it quits.

Sitting up, you put your phone on speaker, and sit it in your lap. “Matty, what the fuck do you need?” You’re pissed, but your voice not showing any more than a slight annoyance.

“I need you to come pick me up, take me back to mine. My buddies dragged me out with them to get over, well, you know. Long story short, they are all shit-faced, none of them fucking coherent, and my god damn car service app isn’t working.” He sounds genuinely stressed. “My phones about to die as well, which is bloody fucking fantastic.” Matty grumbles into the phone.

You sit there, momentarily debating your options. You could leave him there, make him figure his shit out on his own. But you also have a soft spot for him after everything, knowing, if anything, he’s not the same person who deserted your friendship a few years ago. A deliberate exhale leaves your mouth, choosing the latter.

“Yeah, okay. Just text me your location before your phone dies. I’ll be there soon.” You hear him start to thank you, but you hang up quickly, not letting him get another word out. Deciding to keep your satin pajama shorts and bra on, you throw a hoodie over and slide on your sneakers. Groaning while grabbing your car keys off the kitchen island, you set off to your car, driving to Matty’s current location.

As you pull up to the bar, you recognize Matty leaning up against the wall, taking a long drag of his cigarette. Nothing has changed. You also notice none of his friends are anywhere to be seen. Odd. Driving up next to where Matty is standing, you roll down your window and his eyes catch yours.

“Long time no see, love.” Matty’s lips twist up into a smirk. Nothing. Has. Fucking. Changed. You watch him stub out his cigarette on the brick wall and toss it into the trash can by him. He climbs into your car shortly after. “Missed your face, thanks for coming to get me.”

Letting out an immediate scoff at his nonchalant behavior, you decide to ignore his comment. “So, Im taking you back to yours, right?”

You feel Matty’s eyes rake over your body, burning into your skin. You can smell some alcohol on him, though you know he’s not a big drinker, only having a glass or two of wine usually, and choosing to stick to his cigarettes or weed. He’s not drunk, so why is he looking at you like that.

“Of course, love.” He speaks lowly, eyes still stuck on you. You decide to disregard his use of the pet name and put your car into drive, pulling off onto the main road.

The drive to Matty’s house was maybe fifteen minutes at most, and yet it felt like an eternity with his eyes fixed on you. It’s almost like he couldn’t believe you actually came to pick him up, not being able to come to terms that you were finally seeing each other after two years.

Pulling up to Matty’s house brought back so many memories, and important moments you two had shared over the years of your friendship. His driveway led you to his front door, as you put your car in park, you finally glance over at Matty, who’s staring attentively. Under the glow of the exterior lights on his house, you notice he’s wearing tight black jeans, a dark belt, blank tank top, and a satin dress shirt. His long curly hair is slicked back slightly, with his sunglasses sitting on top of his head.

“Like what you see?” Matty implies cockily, eyes never leaving yours.

“It’s a fucking Monday.” You glare at him. “Why were you out on a fucking Monday, don’t you think you’re too old for this bullshit?” Continuing to ignore his playful comments, you squint your eyes at him, crossing your arms over your chest. You slightly feel bad for picking arguments with him, but his remarks are starting to make you feel some type of way.

Matty laughs out loud at your comment, the sudden deep laugh makes you jump a bit. “Lighten up a bit, love.” He nudges his elbow into your arm. You continue to frown at him, clearly not finding anything amusing. Matty falls silent, realizing how upset you actually are. “Look, why don’t you come inside? I can make you some tea, and we could watch a movie like old times?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, waiting on an answer.

Your eyes bore into his. “Fine.” Turning off your car, you and Matty step out, walking up to his front door. He unlocks his door and steps to the side, motioning for you to come in. You take off your sneakers and set them on the mat, walking over to his living room and sitting down on his massive couch. He joins you promptly, sitting right next to you, a little too close for the amount of spots he could’ve picked from.

“Still a little bratty? Huh?” He asks casually, not once looking up at you as he turns on his TV.

“Excuse me?” Your eyes widen at his sudden judgement.

“Bratty. You’ve always been a little brat, love. It’s cute, though. Never minded it. Some things just never change.” He chuckles to himself, shaking his head.

Can’t take it back once it’s been set in motion

Your mouth is agape, taken aback by his words, struggling to make a counter remark.

“I see no one’s ever tried putting you in your place yet.” Matty hums absentmindedly, setting the remote down and glancing over at your shocked face.

You know I love to rub it in like lotion.

Pink flushes on your cheeks and neck as you stare at him with wide eyes, unsure of what to say next. "I- what?" You stumble over your words, mouth suddenly dry.

Matty moves closer, invading any personal space you were clinging onto. His hand falls on your thigh, squeezing as he keeps his eyes locked on yours. "Oh, you heard me loud and clear, love. Don't play stupid now." He whispers, eyes flickering to your lips momentarily.

You lose the ability to speak, eyes unable to leave his. "Matty-" He cuts you off.

"C'mon darling, I saw how you were looking at me in the car, and how eager you were to come pick me up tonight, even after all this time"

I can see it clear as day.

The blush on your cheeks deepens as you feel his hot breath fan across your skin, creating goosebumps up your arms. You grab onto his forearm, putting your other hand on his chest, trying to keep a small distance between you two. Matty was very attractive, you couldn't deny it. But your inexperience was making you hesitate, unsure of how to handle his advances.

Before you could react, Matty reached his hand out and placed it on your cheek, the other still resting on your thigh, squeezing tighter than before. His face was only centimeters away from yours as he breathes out, "Tell me to stop and I will. But you don't want me too, do you, love?"

You don't really need a break.

You close your eyes tightly, feeling flustered at his words. A warmth growing in your stomach, an unfamiliar feeling. You think about pushing him off, but your body ached for him, not wanting to stop this. Without any more hesitation, you look back up at him, shaking your head slowly, an invitation for him to continue.

Wanna see what you can take.

At your permission, Matty crashes his lips against yours, moving the hand that was on your cheek down to your neck. You let out a small gasp at the contact. He takes this as a chance to deepen the kiss, taking up every part of your mouth with his. The grip on your thigh moves up, closer to your heat. His fingers play with the hem of your pajama shorts, pushing them up slightly, almost exposing your underwear. You let out a pathetic whine as he breaks the heated kiss.

"God, Ive wanted to do this for years, you have no idea." Matty grumbles out as he pulls off your hoodie swiftly, pushing you down to lay back against the arm rest. He hovers over you, pulling down your satin shorts slowly, eyes never breaking contact from yours. "You're so fucking pretty baby, my perfect girl." You blush at his words, letting out a soft groan. Feeling like a prey under the gaze of a predator, you fix your eyes on the ceiling, unable to look at him.

You should really run away.

Matty notices this, and reaches his hand out to grab at your chin, directing your attention back to him. "Don't you dare look away, keep your eyes on me, yeah?"

Your eyes meet his again, his pupils blown with lust. He looks at you with a stern look, asserting his dominance as you nod silently. Matty smirks at your obedience, and starts rubbing small circles on your heat. You moan louder this time at the friction, pushing your hips up against his hand.

Other people wouldn't stay. Other people don't obey.

"That's right, love. Does that feel good? Do you want more?" Matty's eyes stay trained on yours. You feel small under his gaze, yet enjoying how he towers over you, his chain dangling in front of your face. You clench your legs together as his fingers rub at your clit, growing wetter by the second.

Your stomach starts to tighten, already close to an orgasm. "Im close, please, I can't." You cry out, throwing your head back on the arm rest.

His fingers suddenly disappear from your clit, and you cry out from the sudden loss.

"Do I need to repeat myself? I told you to keep your eyes on me, yeah? Be a good girl for me, darling." Matty reiterates, moving his other hand up to your neck again, applying pressure but not fully cutting off your airway.

You nod feverishly, not wanting him to stop again. Your eyes pleading for forgiveness. Matty chuckles and reaches his hand back down, his fingers barely grazing your clit again as he pulls your underwear down your thighs, exposing your wet cunt to him. The cold air against your core makes you shudder, the contrast in temperature sending a wave of pleasure up your spine.

Matty watches your reaction intently, reveling in how it doesn't take much to get you worked up. He releases your neck from his grip and places his lips against your neck, searching for your pulse point. You expose your neck more, giving him silent permission to continue.

I wanna do bad things to you.

"God, you really are a desperate thing, aren't you love? Tell me where you want me." He murmurs into your neck, planting kisses and bites around the sensitive area as he rubs tight circles on your clit. You flush at his words, letting out a whimper.

"Anywhere, please." You beg him, jerking your hips up to create more friction again. He lets out a soft chuckle into your neck at this.

"Your wish is my command, darling," Matty smirks and pulls away from your neck. He begins to move down your body, trailing kisses until he reaches your cunt. He breathes out onto your heat, then swiftly attaches his lips to your clit, sucking hard. You cry out from the new feeling, body squirming with pleasure.

Matty hums against your pussy at the cry you let out, creating a vibrating sensation. Your hands grip at his head, your fingers curling into his hair and pulling. You keep your eyes on him as he flicks his tongue against your clit repeatedly, mouth hanging open in a silent moan.

"So fucking perfect for me." He mumbles, wrapping his hands around your legs, keeping them wide open for him. His tongue teases your tight hole, licking thick stripes wherever he could reach before his attention is drawn back to your clit, sucking persistently.

Your back arches off the couch, fingers gripping at his hair and pulling hard. "Matty, fuck, Im gonna come, fuck-" You stumble over your words, feeling your stomach tighten at his continued abuse against your cunt.

Matty pulls away momentarily, "Go ahead, darling. Be a good girl for me and come on my tongue, yeah?" He picks up speed, mercilessly sucking and circling his tongue on your pussy.

I wanna make you yell.

Your legs clench together, affectively trapping him against your core as your body tenses up. You throw your head back, letting out an obscenely loud moan as you feel your orgasm wash over your body. Your hips buck up into his mouth, feeling even more wetness pool where his mouth is. Matty moans against your cunt, sending aftershocks from your orgasm straight to your heat again.

"You taste fucking unbelievable, love," He grunts out. Your body twitches from overstimulation as he finishes cleaning you up with his tongue.

Matty pulls away, his lips red and wet. You look at him with heavy eyes, feeling almost drunk from your orgasm. He looks almost as wrecked as you. You are about to sit up and reach for him when you glance down and realize he's still hard, but he stops you.

"I know you're tired. You don't have to finish me off. Another time, okay?" Matty speaks lowly, keeping eye contact with you as he stands up and grabs a blanket from the basket near the coffee table. He sits on the edge of the couch next to you, wrapping you up in the fluffy blanket. You blink up at him, exhaustion washing over your body.

Matty stares down at you, giving you a look filled with an emotion you couldn't quite pinpoint. You sigh out, feeling his body press up next to yours. He pulls you into his arms tightly, brushing his fingers through your hair.

"Thank you for that." You admit your appreciation shyly, a content smile on your lips.

Matty grins down at you, "Of course, love. Anything for you." He runs his fingers through your hair, brushing the strands out of your face. Your eyes flutter shut, unable to fight the sleep coming over you this time.

my masterlist

requests are open! <3

#matty healy #matty healy x reader #matty healy smut #the 1975 #matty healy fanfiction #the 1975 smut #Spotify

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deadghosy · 1 year ago

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MORE OF TRAILBLAZER!READER PLS PLS PLS PLS PLSSS, WHAT DOES THE ANGELS THINK OF TRAILBLAZER!READER???

HAZBIN HOTEL ANGELS X TRAILBLAZER! READER

prompt: how they viewed you in heaven was something no one excepted an angel like you to act.

I just gotta say. You are a fucking menace.

When you first appeared in heaven as the most beautiful thing with your golden eyes and two pair of wings….you weren’t the most nicest as you were too blunt.

“Is this a flash bang? Why the hell is it so bright here.”

everyone gasped at the H word as if this was kindergarten all over again

*cue you need to leave sound*

Sera had to put a few rules in your face. Literally a whole ass rule book as you sat there with a blank face saying. “Are you effing Fr?” Sera nodded and left leaving you with this HUMONGOUS ASS BOOK THAT REMINDED YOU OF FAIRLY ODD PARENTS

Sera founded you as a troubled youth that needs to see the rules all over again to see the true potential for you to stay in heaven.

Emily didn’t think of you being a troublemaker, she found you quite cool as you explored around heaven having the bravery to speak your mind and not let anything bring you down.

Emily and you got along great and fine as she calls you her little collector as you call her…just Em.

It was a late heavenly night as you stood up from your bed as you did a barrel roll for your balcony as you were starving for some digging. You rummage through the dumpster to find a nice old pearly necklace and a bracelet. “Emily would love this…” you said as you smiled not noticing a blonde haired lady watching you with an asumed smile.

The blonde haired lady from afar found you mysteriously cute and attractive as you roam the streets of heaven.

ADAM HATES YOUR FUCKING GUTS😭😭

It all started when you was digging in trash. It was basically flirting for you to dig through it. *cue fuck boy face* AND THEN ADAM HAD SNUCK BEHIND YOU READY TO INSULT YOU-

But you kicked him straight in his fucking chin-

That horse ass kick gave him a bruise on his chin for legit 2 weeks

You once blasted music in your apartment…I mean shit it was good music you got from the human world you use to live in. You got so much noise complaints but thanks to Emily, she made it seem like you weren’t causing issues.

Lute has no opinions on you, she just doesn’t have time to even look at you. Even though you sometimes break in her place to eat all her food like the raccoon you are.

One day you actually caused trouble in heaven just because you decided to dig in a lady’s trash bin from outside.

“HEY GET OUT OF MY DARN TRASH BIN YOU RACCOON!” An angel yelled from her window throwing her boom at you as you swung your metal bat at her that you totally didn’t find in the trash nights ago…..

The lady screamed ducking as the bat went back into your grasp like a boomerang. “THATS IT! IM CALLING THE GUARDS!”

And so that was your cue to run as if your life depended on it as you thrown a rotten banana peel you found in your pocket. You still had one in your mouth.

And that’s how your 1 month trial ended because you fought bitches for your trash.

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nouearth · 2 years ago

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once upon an eggnog.

clark kent x male reader.

summary: there's nothing better than physical touch to sober reader up after a christmas party.

wc: 1.1k. warnings: fluff, holiday!season, drunk!reader, maws!clark, worried!clark, co-worker!au, reader doesn't know clark is superman, non-descriptive mention of reader throwing up, clark has very warm hands and is a simp because he wants to make reader happy.

The groan you let out was feeble. Your shadow trailed behind your sluggish steps as you foraged through neighboring street lights, gravel and pavement, for a stake of its emanating warmth.

“Hey—“ A voice called out from behind you, the blanket of snowflakes and cold dulling the panic in the man’s voice. You rested your body against the lamppost, finding the warmth to be exemplary over your frosted cheeks, but unbearable for your insides.

You let out a deep sigh. The longer you stood under the light, sweat droplets began to frame your face, followed by an overwhelming urge to cleanse your body from the inside out.

“I don’t feel…” You slurred in your speech, holding your stomach as you craned over until you slid onto your bottom, head exposed to the light as you faced the comforting snow.

“Wait up!” He called out to you several more times in midst of his trudge, his panting audibly close.

You began grumbling incoherent sounds in response as you clumsily whipped off your coat. Your mind was frosted like the windows on the cars lined down the street as you drew in the cold air with a greed to pacify the strange feeling in your stomach.

“(M/N), keep that on!”

“What are you…?! My mom—“ The constant shifting and turning of your body, all in an attempt to strip yourself of the restrictive wool of your vest and reindeer sweater, churned the bottom of your stomach until it was mush.

Absolute.

Mush.

It was funny how the human body worked because even in your drunken state, your natural instinct to find the nearest public trash can surfed through the flood of eggnog and booze, and you immediately emptied the toxins out of your body with several strong hurls.

“Geez, I told you not to run off…” A messenger bag and a familiar coat dropped near your foot, and the man did not spare a single second to come to your aid. “And also not to drink that much...” He rubbed your back in slow and soothing circles, then in vertical swipes as you coughed out the remaining poison. The strong bass pulsating into his palm as a special way of saying ‘thank you.’

“Clark, it was just a sip—“

“You had six cups….” Clark confessed and your immediate frown was telling in whether you were an innocent bystander, or the reason why the office was running low on drinks. Rummaging through his pockets, he then offered a handful of crumbled napkins that he took from the party.

“The last two didn’t count.” You slurred again, slowly regaining your strength as you stabilized yourself over the rim of the garbage can before wiping your mouth with the napkin. “I needed a drink with my food—“

“You barely touched your plate—“ He cut himself off as soon as he caught you staring at him, the eggnog stupefying you into a dazed state in which crickets and holiday festivities replaced coherent thoughts.

“We gotta get you home. It’s freezing.” He said, and you swayed in place as if you were a palm tree basking in the summer breeze. Or maybe like a giant marshmallow floating yet sinking in the warmth of hot cocoa.

Clark tried his best to fight the smile that was creeping upon him as he tidied your outerwear for the fourth time tonight, shielding you from the dusting of cold when he layered you with your coat.

His jaw clenched while he chewed back an adoration for your nearly frost-bitten visage, stalling the fixing of your reindeer headband to be closer to you a little while longer.

Though he couldn’t tell whether the deep flush of your skin was caused by the weather or the booze, it didn’t matter in the end because the winter of your skin magnetized a bravery in Clark that stilled you in place. Warmth sprouted over your cheeks like an approaching spring, and you closed your eyes peacefully.

Clark had put his bare hands over your cheeks, cupping them like a delicate bowl of snowflakes until they melted into his skin, until all he could feel was you and your equally delicate skin.

“Better?” Hesitantly, his thumbs followed the trail of your dark circles. It was something you’d always complain about yet ironically, your evident lack of sleep ranked high on his ‘favorite things about you’ list.

“Mhm. If only your hands were a little warmer.” You sighed again, the snowing melting into your hair and skin battling Clark’s warmth.

“Hm…” Clark held your cheeks closer, deepening his palms into you, and he closed his eyes, silently channeling his energy into his affectionate hold over you.

Maybe it was the booze playing tricks on you, or perhaps it was your body shutting down for the night, but you physically felt his hands heat up, warmer than his previous offer. Nonetheless, you gave him a nod of approval, and despite drowsiness approaching, your eyes opened bright to thank him with a smile.

“I’m guessing that’s why you don’t wear gloves?”

“Uh…” Clark laughed, an anxiousness you could point out, but you couldn’t exactly trust your judgement in your current state. “I guess you could say that’s why.”

“Well,” You said before a yawn slurred your speech even more, feeling the muscles in your body losing its strength by the second. “Remind me when you’re nearby so I can use you as a…”

“As a..?” There was a slight push to his palms, a strange sudden heaviness before Clark realized you were gradually leaning forward. “(M/N)—“

Gravity pulled your eyelids down, then your body forward, a striking contrast to the graceful dance of snow that dusted the ground. “As…”

And you completely slumped into Clark’s arms. Thankfully, his reflexes were quick to catch you before you could even feel the slightest breeze.

“Let’s get you home…” He smile mirrored the gentle frame of your body as you sunk into him.

And he held you close, accompanying your deep slumber with a warmth that surrounded and protected your body like a string of Christmas lights weaved through pine needles and tree branches.

A warmth that campaigned against the icier gale, the ego of a higher altitude, during Clark’s flight to take you back home.

And a warmth that was victorious when Clark tucked you into bed, a measly makeshift of comfort and peace you thought during your stir of sleep.

Because Clark’s warmth was a newfound establishment from this night onwards.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

#clark kent x reader #clark kent x male reader #clark kent x you #clark kent fanfic #clark kent x y/n #nou.fics

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wannaeatramyeon · 2 years ago

Text

Lookism x Reader: Happy Holidays!

G/N. Soft fluff. (All my blorbos - Gun Park, Goo Kim, Ryuhei Kuroda, Jake Kim, Vin Jin, Samuel Seo)

Gun Park - Hat

For the man that could buy pretty much anything, you opted to go for homemade. A personal touch.

Issue is, your personal touch is pretty shitty and shoddy. Gun still accepts the hat with a straight face and heartfelt thanks even as you tell him he doesn't have to wear it.

Why wouldn't I, he thinks. You have spent your time and effort making this for him and he appreciates it. Even if it isn't quite his... taste.

"What is that on your head?" Goo exclaims, torn between bursting into laughter and abject horror at the crimson bobble hat Gun is sporting. Ends of his hair poking out, and the colour highlighting the red of his windswept cheeks and nose.

"Fuck off."

"I think it's cute," Crystal grins as Goo whirls around and screeches.

"Cute?! Gun Park? Have you lost your mind?"

"Like you can say anything with those ridiculous mittens."

"My mittens are not ridiculous!"

Ignoring Crystal and Goo devolving into slinging insults at each other, Kouji glances at Gun and chuckles, opens his mouth to tease-

And is intercepted by a look from Gun, and a warning. "Shut it if you want to live."

Kouji's mouth slams shut.

Goo - Mittens

"Tasteless," Gun sneers, and Goo kicks his ass for it.

"Tasteless," Kouji sighs, and Goo throws his laptop out the window.

"Tasteless," Crystal laments, and Goo- well. Goo can't exactly do anything. That's his boss's daughter, and nepotism is kinda a thing.

So he snarls, nostrils flaring and calls her tasteless too.

"I. LOVE. THESE!" You screech, high and shrill when you yank the mittens out of the box.

Tasteless huh, Goo thinks smugly as you cover him in kisses, No surprise it's everyone else that has no taste.

Birds of a feather truly flock together where you and Goo are concerned. Birds of a feather will also be able to keep their hands warm with their couples mittens too.

A conjoined monstrous thing, that allows you two to keep holding hands through the bitter Seoul winter. Keeping your fingers intertwined and an objectively OTT display of PDA. That you had to be touching, can't even bear to keep your hands to yourself for a moment, that you would need such an accessory.

Goo thought it was perfect when he laid eyes on it, if the way you two are always attached at the hip is any indication.

You clearly think so too, when Goo unwraps his own gift-

-Delighted and cackling, pulling out the same duplicate mittens.

Ryuhei Kuroda - Card

"Y/N!" Ryuhei calls you from down the hallway, waving enthusiastically before striding over.

"Here," he grins, handing over a card, "Happy Holidays. Hope you like it!"

The card sits on your desk. It's somewhere between cringe and cheesy, and utterly charming.

On the front is a (badly) hand drawn picture of you and Ryuhei, signed with his signature in the corner. Inside, a couple lines of explicit filth accompanied with sickeningly sweet declarations and too many hearts and kisses to count.

You blame it on the festive period. That's the reason you're feeling so soppy and sentimental, why every time you look at the crappy drawing you can't help but smile.

Ryuhei blinks, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline, "You kept it?"

"Yeah," you peer at the card in your periphery, "I like it."

"You like it? Really?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

You hear Ryuhei mumbling something about how someone (no prizes for guessing who) would always just dump them in the trash without opening.

"...And they weren't even lewd," he sighs, then perks up, any gloominess dissipating and eyes practically sparkling, "But that's all in the past."

Absolutely delighted, Ryuhei leans over your desk, practically lying across it, and punctuates each word with a kiss, "You!” MWAH “Like!” MWAH “It!” MWAH

"Yeah," you smile fondly at your idiot, cupping his face, "I like you too."

Jake Kim - Gifts

Jake shrugs off his jacket and loosens his tie. It's been a long day. Actually, it's just been a long goddamn year.

He runs his fingers through his hair, ready to jump in the shower and straight to bed when-

Gift bags and presents cover his coffee table and a 'DO NOT OPEN! IT'S NOT FOR YOU!' sign catches his eye.

Huh. That is undoubtedly your scrawl, but if they're not gifts for him then...? He fires off a quick text.

Jake: hey, did you leave some presents at mine?

Y/N: yeah!

Y/N: i did some shopping and grabbed some stuff for your big deal boys

Y/N: and lua ofc

Jake, jaw dropping open at your thoughtfulness: really?

Y/N: yep. sinu and yeonhui too btw.

Jake: are you serious??

Y/N: yeah.. is that not ok?

He’s rendered speechless. And that you might even think that you have overstepped or any such nonsense is ridiculous.

Jake: wow

Jake: it’s more than ok

Jake: you didn’t have to

Jake: i appreciate it.thank you

Y/N: 😁 its just some small bits and pieces. i didn't think you would have time

Y/N: i left some food for you in the fridge too 🥰

His breath hitches and stomach grumbles, your message reminding his body he hasn't had anything since this morning.

Jake starts to type-

I can't believe-

You're the best-

I'm so lucky-

You're too good to-

I don't know what I would do without-

None of them feel right.

In the end he settles for something far simpler.

He dials your number, hears the question in your voice when you pick up.

And pours everything into three words, "I love you."

Vin Jin - Cheonliang

Vin opts for casual and nonchalant, pretends it's something that he thought of rather than something that he has wondered about for the last few weeks.

(Used Mary as a soundboard and she had thought it was a good idea, and if Mary thinks it's a good idea then it definitely is.)

It was a passing thought, at first. A small seed planted and grown until all Vin can think about is how nice the holidays would be with you, how cool it would be to show you where he grew up.

He can't ever escape the awful memories there that still haunt him, but... maybe he can create new memories too.

With you.)

"If you're not doing anything for the holiday break," Vin keeps his eyes on his phone, scrolling now and then to keep up appearances, "Want to come visit Cheonliang with me?"

The question is casual. Easygoing. Breezy. His voice doesn't crack at the end. He's not holding his breath waiting for your reply. He doesn't desperately wish you would say yes, and hasn’t already planned the days with you in advance.

"Really?"

"Yeah," Vin forces himself to shrug, "Might be nice."

"I would love to!"

Vin takes a peek in your direction, double checks he didn't just hallucinate your agreement or that you're joking.

He didn't, and you're not. All he sees is excitement painted over your face and a wide smile. You know how much this means.

He wraps his arm around your shoulder, a weight lifted from his own. Equally anxious and thrilled to show you every part of himself.

Samuel Seo - Gift

"This would look good on you," Samuel shows you a piece of fine jewellery on his phone. It's exquisite. A bit too much for everyday wear (of course Samuel would pick this out, he himself is a bit too much), though it really is stunning.

You tell him it's beautiful.

He pauses, studies your face, then clicks the screen off. Back to square one. "You don't love it."

It's not accusatory, just a statement. But he feels like he needs to get this right. Your first holiday together and you deserve the world. He wants to get you something, really spoil you, to show how much you mean to him.

You take in Samuel's face and can't help but giggle. Him trying to remain unaffected except for a small, telling pout.

"I would love it if you got it for me," You shuffle over until you're sitting in his lap, "But I don't need it."

He wraps you in his arms, adjusting until you're both comfortable, "What do you need?"

"Nothing," Grinning, "I don't need anything else."

"Fine, then what do you want?"

"You."

Your cheesy response earns an eye roll and a reluctant huff of laughter, "You got me. What else do you want?"

"Nothing," you repeat, leaning in and lifting his glasses off. "You're enough."

You pepper his face with kisses until Samuel melts into a puddle; all thoughts of proving his love with price tags and money completely forgotten.

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fanfics-i-find-here · 4 months ago

Text

Do I Know You? Part 14

Synopsis: Girls day out

Notes: I am slowly trickling a kind of backstory for reader. I promise it’ll make sense later. Anyways Enjoy one more chapter of Cass and Steph (plus a sprinkle of Tim).

Masterlist

You wake the next morning with a shiver and the sounds of morning traffic, the warmest spot on your body is where Steph is pressed against you. You’re quick to notice that Cass is gone, and you assume to the bathroom. You stare at the coffee table for a moment, trying to blink the sleep from your eyes, before deciding to get up and make some breakfast for your visitors. You carefully shift Steph, laying her down on the couch. You stretch with a quiet groan. Sleeping and sitting up already wasn’t good, doing so with an already hurt back was even worse. You pause in your stretch, holding still as a lightheadedness hits you. Once it passes the start of your headache returns, but it feels milder than before. Some more pain meds would be your first line of business.

You shuffle quietly into the kitchen and start pulling out ingredients for pancakes, Pans and bowls follow. You move slowly and quietly, not wanting to wake Steph. As you pull the spices from the cabinet next to your stove, you hear the squeak of your window opening. You’re startled, wondering if Red Hood had decided to come visit in the daylight of morning while you had two visitors. You turn to face the living room to find Cass climbing in, decked out in her jacket and boots. She pulls her hood down and unzips her jacket, settling it on a chair in the dining room. She finally looks up to meet your confused eyes with a soft smile.

“Good morning,” She sits on one of the stools at the island and tilts her head in question when you don’t respond.

“Girl, it is freezing outside. What are you doing?” You question moving back to prepping your ingredients for pancakes. Her smile widens.

“The sunrise.” You want to argue that you can’t really see the sunrise from your apartment but you just shrug, still tired. A peaceful silence overtakes you, only interrupted by Steph occasionally mumbling in her sleep. You think about last night and all that you learned about their family. You have more questions.

“Can I ask you a question, Cass?” you ask as you measure out the flour. You see her nod and lean forward on the island.

“Are you and Jason close?” You have a thousand other questions, but Jason was at the top of them.

“It’s complicated,” she says quietly. You wonder what goes on in this family that not one but at least two of the siblings are saying relationships with family are complicated. Cass doesn’t seem uncomfortable about the topic, just slightly saddened.

“Can I ask why?” you mix all the ingredients, putting things away once you’re done with them.

“We believe differently, don’t see eye to eye on everything. It causes a divide between us sometimes. He’s still my brother though.” You nod in understanding as you turn to pour batter into a pan.

“That makes sense. My sister and I are like that sometimes. I think it’s part of having siblings.”

“Are?” You turn to face Cass. Her head is tilted, and a confused look is on her features. You’re still at the question, wondering if Cass knows more about you than you had told anyone in Gotham, including Jason. You stare at her for a moment and you’re about to ask her what she means when Steph’s voice rings through the air.

“Is something burning?” Your eyes widen and you’re quick to turn to the stove, smoke emanating from the pancake that never got flipped. You didn’t try to save it, throwing it right in the trash. You lower the heat and try again. You want to ask Cass what she meant but Steph had already dragged her into a conversation about shopping, so you focus on the pancakes. When you come back to your senses it’s because you realize Steph had asked a question.

“Will you?”

“What?” Steph gives you a teasing smile.

“Will you go shopping with us?” You feel your heart drop. You want to say yes, you really do, but you don’t think you’re ready to go outside. In fact, you don’t think you will ever be ready to go outside. Between Jason and the girls, your apartment has become a very safe space. Cass must sense your hesitance. Her hand settles on the island as close to you as possible.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” The look in her eye reminds you of Jason again, impossibly knowing and full of understanding. They may be adopted but they were definitely siblings. You shake your head.

“It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just,” you pause unsure if you’re ready to say something out loud that you hadn’t even told Jason (You're sure he knows anyway). You suck in a deep breath, “I am terrified. It’s safe here, not out there”

You drop your gaze on the batter before turning to flip the pancakes. You feel anxious but better at finally admitting how you were feeling. You think you can hear the silent argument happening behind you.

“You can’t stay in your apartment forever,” Cass says.

“Yea, you’ll get lonely,” Steph adds. You can hear the attempt at a playful tone, but it’s smothered in worry. You turn with a few plated pancakes meeting their eyes. The worry in their eyes makes you want to cry. For three years, you had lived in Gotham, and you had been alone. It was only in the last year that your shifts lined up with Darla’s and she had become a semblance of a friend. And now, standing in front of you were two girls who had happily forced their way into your apartment so you wouldn’t be alone and, of course, Jason.

“How could I ever get lonely, with friends like you?” Your voice is weak and wobbly, and you sniffle to stop yourself from crying. Steph practically sprints around the island and tackles you into a hug. She pets your hair like she had before, this time you were actually close to an inconsolable child.

“You’re so right, what were we thinking? You can stay in your apartment forever. I’ll visit you all the time and bring you groceries and whatever you need. Or we can, like, shrink you down and keep you in a jar and you will still be safe, but you could see the outside world still. I think that’s a good plan, then I can really hog you from Jason.” You give a watery laugh, hugging her back, eyes closed. You feel a hand squeeze at your bicep and up to your shoulder. You blindly wrap said arm around Cass’s neck and drag her into the hug.

You’re not too proud to admit you did, in fact, cry. How could you not when these girls were so sweet on you? After what was most likely the longest group hug ever, you pull away. Their smiles are a comfort and it braves you up. With a firm nod, you say, “Let’s go shopping.”

They seem startled by your statement. Cass gives you an imploring look.

“Are you sure?”

You nod, even more sure from her concern, “It’s like you said, I can’t stay here forever. What better way to get on with it than with the two sweetest girls I’ve ever met.”

Steph does a hop and a spin, “This is going to be so much fun!” she squeals, “We can have a runway montage.”

****

You did not have a runway montage. You had all eaten and dressed slowly, no real rush to get out the door. Once everyone was ready, they dragged you down to the nearest subway station, one that you didn’t know about and was within walking distance. There weren’t very many people on the subway, being just before noon on a weekday, but you still felt claustrophobic, jumpy. The girls did a good job of distracting you, so you didn’t have time to panic. A haphazard game of eye spy that led to a debate about whether something was burgundy or maroon. Before you knew it, they were pulling you off the subway and out into the cold winter air. The sun was barely hiding behind some thin clouds and a light breeze blew through the buildings of the Diamond District.

You had never been to the Diamond District, maybe glanced at a few times when Jason would take you for a ride on his bike. To be honest, you didn’t know what to expect. Rows of fancy boutiques lined the street, with fancy suits and fancier dresses. When the girls mentioned shopping, you had assumed something along the lines of thrifting, but you weren’t going to argue this outcome, curiosity getting the better of you. You let them pull you into a nice boutique with a lady, you assumed she must have known them. An easy “Miss. Wayne, Miss. Brown” slipped from her lips when you entered through the door. Despite her polite tone, you don’t miss the second of disdain as she eyes you before her pleasant smile returns. This was definitely not your type of place. Cass pulled you into a dressing area while Steph talked to the woman.

“This place seems pretty baren.” You tell Cass, the walls only covered in a few items.

“That’s because they’re stylists. You tell them what you’re going for and they bring things out to you.” Your brows rise in surprise. This place screamed money, but you were surprised by how neutral the girls seemed about it. It’s not that you wanted to know how much they made in a year, but you were a little curious about where they sat on the tax bracket. Steph skips over to meet you. A smirk grows on her lips when she sees your face.

“It’s a lot, but don’t worry. Nobody will bother us here and we can try on a bunch of clothes. I told her something along the lines of Brunch and high tea, which may be the same thing. I’m still not sure.” You’re pleased at the sentiment of her words. Nobody will bother us here.

You’re easily pulled into a whirlwind of clothes that you're sure cost more than your month's rent. You could see the draw of this whole stylist thing. The woman from before would show periodical and look over the clothes any of you were trying on. She’d pull fabric this way and then disappear to come back with more clothes. She brought you two gorgeous dresses that you liked more than you want to admit. You stepped out into the dressing hall and stepped in front of the mirror. You turned this way and that looking at it. Steph popped out of her room in a glittery number but the moment her eyes landed on you she all but squealed. You met her eye in the mirror, startled before she dragged Cass out of her own room.

You felt self-conscious with the way both looked at you, so you focused on looking at yourself in the mirror. You’d never worn something so flattering before. It hugged in all the right places. Just enough cleavage to look good and a modest slit. Your hands smooth over the waist as you try to catch what the girls were whispering about.

“He’s going to love this,” your brows scrunch at Cass’s words and you turn to look at them.

“What?”

“You look amazing. That dress was made for you.” Steph says. You were starting to realize Steph likes to redirect your questions. You turn to look at the dress in the mirror again.

“I don’t know, I don’t think this red is my color.” Cass comes up behind you with hands-on your shoulder as you meet eyes in the mirror.

“It is,” despite the shortness of the phrase, there's a sternness that you won't argue with. Staph joins you in the mirror.

“You have to get.” You give her a ridiculous look in the mirror.

“First of all, where would I even wear this?” you question because this dress was definitely for something fancy, something you were not a part of, “Second of all, there is no way I could afford this. Playing Dress up has been fun, but I think you’ve gone off the deep end.” You think you’ve made a very valid argument but Steph has a mischievous glimmer in her eye. You look at Cass for support, but you find she has the same look. They were teaming up against you again. You huff off back into your room with an eye roll.

“One more dress, Honey! Pretty please? Then we can go get lunch.” You hear Steph call out. You comply albeit begrudgingly. You pick through the small pile you have left and pull out the pretty floral dress you had eyed before the red. As you change, you wonder who he was they were talking about. Part of the reason the red on the dress threw you off was because the longer you stared at it the more it reminded you of a certain vigilante. One you hadn’t seen in four days. Four days? Had it really only been that long since…

You cut off your own thoughts. Here and now was not the place to think about that. You fiddle with the straps of the dress as you walk out of the room. Cass and Steph sit in their street clothes in chairs waiting for you. You didn’t know it was possible to change that fast, although you're sure just slow, changing still causing a bit of an ache in your back.

“Help,” you say as you drop the straps entirely confused by them.

“Now this is High tea,” Steph says as she picks up one of the straps. She stands and stares at it before waving to Cass to help her. Five minutes later and with help from the attendant lady, you find out that there are four ribbons that made the straps and could be tied however you wanted, bows on the shoulders, as a halter, diagonally across the chest. Any unused ribbon was easily concealed, tucked into the dress. Despite the confusion, you think you might like this dress more than the red one. Skimming just below the knees and evermore flattering. It was nice to be all dressed up after spending the past few days in pajamas. Cass and Steph have that conspiring look again. It’s odd, watching them have a conversation without words. Once they apparently come to a decision, they look at you.

“Gorgeous as always. Lunch?” Steph finally says. You eye them suspiciously, but they look the picture of innocence.

“I don’t trust you two.” You joke and they give you a knowing grin.

You change out of the dress and back into your street clothes. You eye it longingly before leaving them, the idea of lunch becoming more and more appealing. You find the girls at the front counter discussing something with the lady. The girls shush each other once they see you, grinning suspiciously.

“Ready?” Steph asks she wraps her hand around your elbow and drags you out of the store, you barely have time to holler a thank you to the woman for her help.

You end up at a little café in a business area just down the street from the diamond district. It bustling with office workers rushing to get their afternoon coffee pick up. You order the best sandwich you think you have ever had, an idle chatter between the three of you. You're surprised you don’t feel quite as jumpy as you had this morning, despite there being more people in the café than were on the subway. You are more focused on the crowd, eyes scanning like you'll find a face that’s not supposed to be there, one that’s no longer living. During one of your scans, you spot a man on the other side of the café eyeing your table with a smirk. You feel a newly familiar reel of panic seizing your throat. You turn back to the girls hoping your mind is just trying to scare you. Steph is regaling you with a story from when she and Tim had dated.

Your nerves had just started to die down when someone clears their throat next to your table. You tense, hand curling into a fist under the table, nails digging into your skin. Steph glances up but Cass’s eyes are narrowed on you, you feel her foot nudge against your under the table and you have to remind yourself to relax as Steph talks to the man. He’s trying to start up a conversation, presumably to get a number but she talks him down. He leaves peacefully. Your entire body sags and you bury your face in your hands.

“You okay?” Steph asks and you can hear her nails tapping against the counter as she reaches for you. You drop your hands and give them an apologetic smile.

“It’s just nerves. I thought I was fine, but I think the crowds are getting to me.” You admit.

“Then we're done for the day.” Cass asserts, standing up. You easily follow, eager for some fresh air, or at least as fresh as it can be in Gotham.

A few steps out of the Café Steph lets a screech that causes you to flinch.

“Timothy!” You watch Steph skip over to the man who seems just as startled as you feel.

“Oh, Hi,” he says with wide eyes, “What’re you doing here?”

Steph, ever the talker, gives him a rundown of the day. He glances periodically down the street, at you, at Cass, at Steph, at the sky, and nods along to whatever she’s saying. You don’t think he’s listening if only because he looks so tired.

“…and now we’re leaving,” Steph finishes up.

“Sounds like a more exciting day than mine,” He says as his eyes level on you. You stick your cold fingers in the pocket of your jacket.

“I heard what happened, Glad to see you’re okay. Jason was super worried” He says. You shift awkwardly on your feet, still antsy with the crowd.

“Oh, thanks.” You say, though your heart warms because, apparently, Jason has talked with his family about you quite a bit. Although you're less pleased about it being about the incident.

“Hey, can we steal your car?” Cass asks him. Your brows scrunch at the question but Tim just nods.

“I’ll drive you guys. I could use the break from work.” He responds. You finally take in his attire. A nice overcoat opens over a suit with a loosened tie. He starts walking in the direction he had come from.

“I didn’t take you for a businessman,” you admit as you four walk and it was the truth. The first and last time you saw Tim, he was dressed very casually, like Steph had been at the time like they had either just left the gym or were on their way there. Tim glances at you and shrugs.

“It’s not something I try to broadcast. I get enough people breathing down my neck.” He grumbles.

“So, do you do like Data entry or something like that?” You hear Steph laugh and you throw her a questioning look to which she just shakes her head. Tim laughs too with a playful glint.

“Something like that,” He muses, and you suddenly feel left out of an inside joke. You stroll up to a skyscraper with what you think is a W at the top. You're not familiar with this part of Gotham which isn’t surprising, considering you’re not familiar with most of Gotham, but you wonder if its used as a landmark for direction. Turn left at the W building. Tim and Steph easily waltz into the building, past security guards. You falter not because you think you’ll get in trouble but because you feel the same way you had felt at the boutique. That you are wildly out of touch with who your friends might be.

Cass hooks her arm with yours but doesn’t pull. She watches you and once your feet start working again you meet her eyes.

“Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” She comforts you, patting your arm. You walk into the large lobby and take a moment to glance around. You had never been in a skyscraper building before, having had no reason to, and your wonder is apparent. Cass leads you quietly around men in suits and women in pencil skirts chatting about assignments due by the end of the week. This place was a whole other world. You meet Tim and Steph at the elevators. They give you both a questioning look, no doubt wondering where they had lost you both.

“This very large building,” you state still in shock.

“Wayne Tower,” Cass starts

“Oldest Skyscraper in Gotham,” Steph adds

“Designed by Cyrus Pickney, Funded by Solomon Wayne” Tim Continues.

You stare at them as the elevator dings and you all shuffle in. You continue to Stare at them.

“What?” Tim asks.

“Are you guys an infomercial for the building? What was that?” You playfully jab. They glance at each other before shrugging.

“Bruce.” They say in unison. You're curious about this adoptive father they all share, who apparently has a niche for architecture that he passed on to the kids. But you don’t have the energy to continue the conversation, feeling suddenly drained now that you're not walking through a crowd. The trip to the car in the underground parking garage garners no event. As does the ride to the apartment. You nearly fall asleep in the back seat with Cass had it not been for the pop music that Stephanie insisted on blasting through the speakers. You thanked Tim for the ride, hoping his day would get better and he waves you and the girls off.

You lean on Steph in the Elevator ride up to your apartment. Steph and Cass share a look that you’re not privy to. The moment you're in your apartment, they start to slowly pack up their stuff. You feel a little exposed with the way they could see you. You wanted to ask them to leave because you were ready to be alone if only for a little while and you didn’t want to seem rude. They made it so you didn’t have to worry about any of it.

“We’re going to head out,” Steph says as she pulls you into a gentler hug than you’re used to from her. “If you need anything, text me.”

You smile, “Oh my god, you're like Jason,” you say, remembering the number of times he badgered you about letting him know if you needed him. An offended look crosses her face.

“Don’t ever say that to me ever again,” her face is serious, but you can hear a playful lilt at the edge of her words. Cass is next to hug you. She doesn’t say anything but she does stay there for a while. Whether that’s for you or her, you’re not sure, but you're more than pleased about it. Once she pulls away, she pats your cheek.

“I left my phone number on your fridge,” she says. It’s a simple statement but it shares the same message as Stephs. Let me know if you need something. You nod and thank them a few times as they gather the last of their stuff. Some snacks and skincare left behind for your own use. You wave them out the door with thank yous and see you laters, mind in the middle of a conflict.

You want to be alone mostly for a recharge, but you don’t want to be alone. There was a peace of mind you had with people being around you, people you knew only cared, but you felt so drained like you had spent three days outside in a crowded music festival you didn’t want to be at. Overstimulated and overtired almost instantly. Other than that, you wanted to give Red Hood a chance to redeem himself. You had had people in your apartment for four days now. You chalked that up to why he hadn’t come to check on you. But it was only mid-afternoon, and the night was so far away that you felt exhausted. You glance around your apartment, a little messier than you would usually keep it but it reminded you of the chaos of having visitors for once. You left it the way it was and crashed into your bed for a much-needed nap before nightfall.

Additional notes: Next episode, Jason will be back!!! I wanted to have the Red Hood confrontation in the next chapter, but I think I got over-excited with Jason. I’m still writing, so it could just be that it’s a little bit longer of a chapter. We will see. Thank you for reading!!

Tag List: @little-miss-naill, @nikilolo787, @joonunivrs, @uzxotic, @qardasngan, @stormz369, @g4bbi3xx, @iwatobiswimbros, @the-lonely-flute, @elz-xo, @gone-batty-fics, @princessesgarden, @notfckincreative, @love-theangel, @feyres-fireheart, @penguimlover23, @herodedicatedblog, @dearghostling, @automaticplant

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #platonic!cassandra cain x reader #platonic!stephanie brown x reader #do i know you?#kandywrites #fanfics-i-find-here

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